Night Changes
by simply-misc
Summary: A new kind of love blossoms under the cover of darkness. A series of drabbles recounting the late night developments in Tadashi and Hiro's relationship. [Hidashi]
1. The Beginning

**A/N:** Hi everyone! This is my first Big Hero 6 story, although not my first fanfic. I used to have a different account on this site and was very active, and even wrote a novel length piece for another fandom. But here I am, starting anew with a BH6 story!

This story will be Hiro/Tadashi, although it will be a slow build. I've read a few Hidashi stories over on AO3, and while I find them enjoyable, I often think they're a little too dramatic. They end up putting our boys in some crazy situations, and often have them act out of character as a result. I don't think the Hamada brothers need drama to propel them into a love story... they are a love story in their own right.

Each chapter will be fairly short (the first the shortest of them all)—a different night time encounter between the two brothers. I structure the story this way so that I don't get overwhelmed with writing huge chapters and can hopefully provide a fairly consistent influx of story as time passes.

Enjoy!

 **Chapter 1:**

The first time Hiro had crawled into bed with him had been shortly after their parents had died. It was the middle of the night and the house was dark—they had only just moved into Aunt Cass' house, and their room was still sparsely decorated and strange. The circumstances had made what would have otherwise been a wonderful home into a prison. It would take a while before it again changed shape.

"'Dashi?" Hiro had said. Tadashi had been sleeping lightly, fitfully, still upset enough about the recent events that true, restful sleep continued to elude him. He turned over in bed and saw his little brother there, looking lost and sad and helpless, the light reflecting in his big, doe eyes/

He was still sleepy as he asked, "Hmm? What'sit Hiro?"

"I had a bad dream… I miss Mom and Dad," and at this, his lip quavered dangerously. Tadashi could guess the content of the dream, and he knew the look on Hiro's face well by now. His face was always stricken with that same look every time he was about to cry and it made Tadashi's heart hurt.

At the mention of their parents, his throat constricted. Tadashi pulled back the covers of his bed—with his throat tight like it was, all he managed was, "Me too."

Hiro saw the invitation for what it was. He clambered and laid down easily, looking at Tadashi in the dark room. Tadashi could just make out the glow of his eyes, which were moistening with tears. "Hey, hey," he said, thinking of how their Mom would talk in this situation. "It's… it's…" he was going to say it was going to be okay, but it felt very not-okay in that moment. "We still have each other," is what he decided on.

He couldn't mention Aunt Cass, because she felt too much like a replacement for their mother and it made him angry to think about it. No one could ever replace Mom, not even her sister.

"Yeah," was all Hiro said, and he sniffled. Tadashi knew it wasn't the comfort he needed—they needed—because what they needed was their mother. He felt tears well up in his own eyes and closed them against the dark room, but opened them again when he felt Hiro's small hands on his face, wiping the few escaped tears away. The movement wasn't finessed, but it meant the world to him just then.

"We have each other," Hiro said to him and Tadashi nodded. That comfort would have to do.


	2. Fast Forward

**A/N:** Fast forward to the current day, and we see an updated version of what late night snuggling might look like. I have about 5 more chapters already written out, but I realized a little too late that the time-frame for this story is a little murky. I imagine it to be a somewhat AU, where Tadashi lives but Hiro still becomes friends with the gang. Baymax is complete, although he doesn't play a role in this story.

 **Chapter 2:**

Throughout the years, Hiro spent many nights in his bed with him, huddled close against the bad memories, the bad dreams, the bad days. He did it regularly until he was about 10, and then less and less so until it happened only once in a blue moon. Tadashi thought it was an important part of growing up.

So Tadashi admitted he was surprised when one night, he heard that hesitant, "'Tadashi?" for the first time in months, maybe almost a year. He turned over and saw his little brother standing there, rubbing his eyes, his hair its usual crazy mop on his head, sticking out in every direction. He looked just as lost as the first time this had happened, and Tadashi felt a pang in his chest, like the reverberations when an unexpected impact rattles through your bones. The memory still made him think of their parents.

"Bad dream?" he offered.

"Yeah," and Tadashi was surprised by how hoarse Hiro sounded. It wasn't just a sleepy rasp he heard—it was… breaking? "Can I…?" he trailed off, but his voice had cracked even with those words.

"Yeah, of course," he murmured, pulling back the covers. He was more and more awake by the second, concern sending his big brother brain into overdrive. He watched Hiro closely as he almost fell into the bed next to him, turning to face him, hands curled uncertainly under his chin. Tadashi could tell that Hiro wanted to reach out and touch him, but was holding himself back.

Now Tadashi was really worried, because that wasn't how this went. Hiro always laid so his back was to Tadashi's front, and Tadashi would wrap his arms around him. There had come a point where they both realized that this behavior was perhaps a little unusual, or at least usually ended at an age earlier than this. Turning away from each other had been a concession of sorts, to minimize the awkwardness.

Hiro didn't look like he was feeling awkward. He looked like he was feeling desperate.

"You wanna talk about it?" Tadashi asked. He couldn't help that his hand went of its own volition to push some hair out of Hiro's face. He just looked so young that Tadashi couldn't stop himself, and he thought that Hiro needed the touch anyway. His hand lingered, laying itself on Hiro's neck, thumb stroking back in forth in a subtle, almost subconscious gesture of comfort. Tadashi searched Hiro's face.

Hiro bit his lip and averted his eyes, but they came back to look at him again quickly enough. Tadashi's eyes were adjusting to the dark and he could make out Hiro's face pretty well now, and he really did look on the verge of tears. "We don't have to, if you don't want to," Tadashi hastened to add.

A tear really did fall now, and Tadashi watched it slide down the side of Hiro's face to land on his pillow. He could feel Hiro's shaky breath blowing out on his face, that's how close they were, but neither of them could bear to be any further apart in this moment. Tadashi knew Hiro needed him here.

"You… You died," Hiro started, but then he seemed to lose his will, as if saying those two words alone was enough to drain him of the rest of his energy. Just as he thought Hiro's eyes were going to flutter back shut, they snapped open again, and Hiro said anxiously, "It seemed so real…! A fire—"

"Hey, I'm here now," and Tadashi carded another hand through his hair. It seemed to help and Hiro took a deep breath, exhaling against his face. Tadashi didn't even mind.

Hiro reached out a hand then, and Tadashi felt it tremble lightly as Hiro's fingers made contact with his face. It wasn't a caress on the side of his face, more like how a blind person might feel a face to get a sense of what it looked like. Hiro's fingers started high on his head, made their way down the arch of his brow, felt the bridge of his nose, and settled on his cheek. Hiro's thumb moved across his face, mimicking the gesture that Tadashi had made just moments before.

Tadashi was holding his breath. They hadn't been affectionate like this in a long time, not since they decided this whole ordeal was awkward. He didn't want to ruin the moment, or make Hiro feel self-conscious, so he didn't breathe.

"I couldn't lose you too," and two more tears made their way down to the pillow, one from each eye. Tadashi watched the tears make their journey, still holding his breath, waiting to see if there was more, but as a few more tears slipped free, Tadashi realized Hiro was done. The emotional strength it must have taken to make that confession, just moments after a nightmare made it seem like a reality was not something lost on Tadashi.

Tadashi moved his hand over Hiro's, lacing his fingers through Hiro's for a moment before placing their hands over his own heart. He could feel it beating, maybe even a little too quickly, under his fingers, and he knew that Hiro could feel its pitter patter against his palm. "I'm here."

Hiro was nodding, wiping his eyes, as if saying to himself _that that was enough_ , and the tears were gone. How dare they fall out of his eyes without warning him first? Tadashi smiled, a little at the monologue he had given Hiro and a little just out of love for his brother. There were a few more beats of silence before Hiro whispered, "Thanks, 'Dashi," and let go of his hand, turning around to face away from him. He hadn't heard that nickname from Hiro's lips in a long time, and it brought him back to different times, times when they used to do this without thinking. For a moment, they were back there.

Tadashi slid his arm under the pillow into the crook of Hiro's neck, and wrapped his other arm around Hiro's waist. These days, he did it slowly every time, in case Hiro didn't want that kind of touch anymore, but Hiro moved even closer to him at the encouragement. Their bodies were pressed together almost from head to toe, and Tadashi let out a deep breath, feeling the tension drain out of him.

Beside him, Hiro did the same.


	3. Reaching Out

**A/N:** I was hoping to maybe get a few more readers hooked on this story before posting another drabble, but beggars can't be choosers. Another short one, but it's both fluffy and hurt/comfort, one of my favorite combos.

I guess one thing I should also explain is the dream. Before I had decided what sort of time this took place in, I was going to have this all be before the fire—but then, as I believe I mentioned before, I wrote in Tadashi's friends as though they all knew each other, pushing the story back. The dream, as it stands right now, is just a reference to the original movie plot=-but there's no deeper meaning than that. I guess I just wanted to make it clear that Hiro doesn't suddenly have ESP, haha.

One last thing: although I thought of the title before I realized there was a One Direction song by the same name, I do think the chorus of the 1D song fits well with the feelings captured in this story.

 **Chapter 3:**

They didn't talk about it in the morning—they never did, these days, because Hiro was always too embarrassed to talk about those moments when he was so vulnerable. He was in that awkward space where he wanted to be seen as an adult but often still needed help like a child. Tadashi respected that.

What he didn't expect was for a repeat of this same episode the very next night. "'Tadashi?"

He opened his eyes and glanced at the clock: 3:47 in the morning. He had only been asleep about an hour, since he'd had a late night working on his latest project for class. He felt as if he had only been asleep for five minutes, and so when he turned around to face Hiro he was almost wide awake.

His heart leapt into his throat when he saw Hiro, who was equally awake. He felt such a sense of urgency that he turned on the light beside his bed, and they both winced a little at the bright light. But there it was—Hiro's eyes and nose were red, and he was breathing out of his mouth, harsh, heavy breaths like he was congested. He had an emotional flush about him, his cheeks showing evidence of tears.

This time it was Tadashi who threw his legs over the side of the bed and came to Hiro, who was standing a few feet away from the bed. Tadashi reached out for him and pulled them both back towards the bed, so that they could sit on it, but his grip on Hiro's shoulders was tight as he pulled him into his arms. He splayed his hands out over Hiro's back, pulling Hiro close until their chests touched at the front and their hips and legs from the side.

Hiro took in the loudest, deepest breath Tadashi had ever heard, like he had just come up from being dunked in an ice bath—and then he was sobbing, his hands bunching up the back of Tadashi's sleep shirt, pulling him even closer than Tadashi thought possible. It was like Hiro wanted them to meld into one body, that was how close he pulled him, how desperate he was, but he obviously needed it.

"It's okay, it's okay," he said, keeping one hand pressed to Hiro's back while the other stroked the hair at the nape of his neck. "Why didn't you wake me up sooner?"

There were more heavy breaths and Hiro really didn't seem to be getting a hold of himself. "Couldn't—" a big gulp of air, "breathe—" another big gulp of air, "So—s-s-scared—" another big gulp of air, and Tadashi finally shushed him, because it made him feel sick to listen to Hiro like this.

"It's okay, it's okay, I'm here, I'm fine," Tadashi said in a jumble. He was only guessing at what the right assurances were, but judging from how Hiro gave one final big sob and then finally stopped gasping for breath, he had guessed right. "The same dream?" he asked, a little tentatively.

"W-w-w-worse!" Hiro all but wailed as Tadashi shushed him again.

It definitely was worse, because it took almost a half hour to get Hiro to stop shaking. When Tadashi made a move to slide back on the bed, Hiro grabbed his elbows with such force it startled him.

"Don't worry, I'm not going anywhere," he reassured him, holding on to Hiro's arm as he moved back to a more normal orientation on the bed. Hiro slipped in next to him immediately, face still pale and puffy but his earlier tears having subsided. "Let's try and get some rest, huh?"

Hiro nodded, his face tight. It looked like he had sucked on a lemon, his expression was so pinched. Tadashi brushed some hair out of Hiro's eyes and Hiro seemed to calm a little at the familiar gesture. He made an attempt at humor, "You really need to get a haircut, bud,"

It was the tiniest smile Tadashi had ever seen, but Hiro at least gave it a try. He didn't face Tadashi this time as he laid down, but when Tadashi wrapped his arm around him, Hiro's hand clutched the back of his tightly. It wasn't uncomfortable, but there was an intensity, a purposefulness to the touch that he couldn't ignore; Hiro really was scared. Even though he had quieted, the feelings hadn't subsided.

Tadashi reached behind him and turned off the light.


	4. Night Terror

**A/N:** Hello again everyone! I'm glad to see that a couple of new readers have hopped on board for this story, your faves and follows mean a lot to me and inspire me to keep writing when things are tough. They also remind me how much I enjoy writing fanfic, when other life priorities (like, you know, getting a PhD) seem to make me forget that fact.

One thing I wanted to say before starting the chapter is that you've probably noticed there is not a lot of dialogue in this story—and I don't intend there to be a lot of dialogue as a whole. Certainly if a scene requires conversation, of course I'll write it, but I sort of like this idea of Tadashi and Hiro communicating on this different level with looks and touches. It seems more real to me because sometimes, things just don't need to be said to be known.

 **Chapter 4:**

The next night, he awoke to screaming.

He jolted out of bed so fast he felt his muscles seize up at the sudden movement, but he ignored the cramp as he turned on the light next to him. His eyes widened in alarm as he saw Hiro scrambling up out of bed himself, looking like he didn't know where he was, eyes those of a wild animal about to be caught, and Tadashi stumbled, he was moving so quickly to get to him, wrapping his arms around him as the screams lessened and turned into heavy, body wracking sobs, so forceful they almost took Tadashi down with them as Hiro hunched over at the intensity of the feeling.

It was really a scream and a sob all at once.

Tadashi's heart was working itself into a staccato frenzy when their door flew open and Aunt Cass came in, disheveled, breathing hard, adrenaline clearly pumping through her veins. She was holding a bat threateningly. "What's going on?" she asked, a little hysterically, "Are you okay? What happened?"

Tadashi took a deep breath, trying to calm his heart, still hammering loudly in his chest. He was sure Hiro could hear it pounding from where his cheek rested against his chest. Aunt Cass was coming over to them now, having taken in Hiro's state, and her eyes were wide with fear. Hiro was crying so forcefully that he was almost falling out of Tadashi's arms, so forcefully that Tadashi couldn't keep a grip on him. He tightened his grip and felt Hiro's nails dig into his forearms, still panicked, frantic.

"He had a nightmare," he said finally, and Aunt Cass nodded, not satisfied but at least feeling reassured that there wasn't an ax murderer in the house, or something similar. The bat fell to the ground beside her as she shifted into her role as mom, and Tadashi felt real love for her then. She was a wonderful woman in every way, and while she would never replace his mother, she always did her best.

Together, the two of them comforted Hiro. It took a long, long time to calm him down, the two of them rubbing his arms, embracing him, touching his face, his hair, Aunt Cass whispering sweet nothings into his ear while Tadashi just repeated, "It's okay, I'm here, we're here," so many times the words started to sound foreign to his own ears, like they weren't words at all.

After what seemed like forever, Tadashi said, "I think I can get him back into bed."

Aunt Cass looked uncertain, but nodded her head. She knew Tadashi would take of Hiro, just like he always had. Tadashi was touched, although it was hard not to feel unsteady when he rose to his feet.

Hiro was like a ragdoll in his arms now, he was so tired from the emotional episode. Tadashi was exhausted too—there was no easy going back to sleep for him tonight. "Hey, let's get back in bed," he said in a low voice to Hiro after Aunt Cass had left.

At this, Hiro grabbed him fiercely, but he had expected this and said quickly, "Don't worry, don't worry, I've got you, not going anywhere," and he lifted Hiro into his arms, bridal style, as he made their way over to his bed, where his one light was still casting a soft glow over the room. While some nights the glow was comforting and warm, tonight it seemed ominous and dark. Tadashi shook the thoughts from his head, knowing they wouldn't help him, or more important help Hiro—right now.

He placed Hiro down on his bed and followed closely behind, pulling Hiro towards him instinctively. Over the last couple of nights, he had gotten very used to this sensation of Hiro lying next to him, and it was obvious that Hiro still needed his physical presence to get the emotional comfort he needed. Tadashi pulled him close for both their benefit tonight, Hiro's solid body a consolation to his still frazzled nerves. Every protective instinct in his body was screaming at him to do something because the situation just didn't feel resolved. Tadashi felt like something big, something perilous was coming, but he didn't know what. He felt like his brother was in danger, although it could have just been Hiro's screams reverberating in his ears. He knew he wouldn't forget that sound for a long time.

When Tadashi turned off the light, Hiro had already succumbed. Tadashi didn't sleep.


	5. Their Parents

**A/N:** Hello everyone! A new little drabble (the longest of the series so far), where we get a little more info out of Hiro about his dreams and more understanding about why things have been unfolding the way they have. We get a little bit more hurt/comfort in this chapter, and we get to see into Tadashi's psyche.

I was talking to one of my friends about this movie, and we were discussing Tadashi's character. Tadashi is much beloved among the fandom, but some movie critics felt that he was too perfect and one-dimensional. I think a lot of the time, people write Tadashi following the same script of the movie, where he is this hunky, super intelligent, sensitive big brother. And he is all those things, and all those things are fine, but this chapter was my attempt to get a bit more of a "behind the scenes" look at who Tadashi is and what motivates him to do the things he does.

His backstory in the movie is unfairly glossed over—because how can someone raise their kid brother and not feel the weight of it for the rest of their life? Some fics I've seen address this, but I wanted to take a shot at it myself.

 **Chapter 5:**

The next night had them all on edge. Aunt Cass' goodnight took on a different tone, and a different feeling, after the previous night's events. Tadashi gave her a nod that said he would do his best to handle any situation that arose, but they were both a little apprehensive. There had been an air of uncertainty in the café all day, and it had followed Tadashi like a little cloud when he went to his lab to work. Everyone had asked him what was wrong, made half-joking, half-serious comments about how bad he looked (was he hungover? Have a wild night?—you have no idea, he thought), while Honey in particular tried to mother him. He was grateful that he had such good friends, but it didn't help his mood.

That night, he was the last to shower and came into their bedroom with some sweatpants slung low on his hips. He had just finished pulling a T-shirt over his head when he heard Hiro's quiet voice, "Can I… can I sleep… with you tonight?"

From across the room, Tadashi could see the depth of Hiro's flush—it contrasted starkly against his skin, standing out for all the world to see. Tadashi was filled with love and fondness for his brother, and knew Hiro was just as worried about tonight as he and Aunt Cass were. It still must have been hard for him to ask so directly, when most of their shared-bed encounters were late night meetings of few words. It spoke to the realness of Hiro's fear and it made Tadashi worry. What was going on with Hiro?

"Yeah, of course," he said, walking over to his bed. "I'm just going to read a little, if that's okay?" It was part of his normal routine, but things hadn't felt normal all day, so he figured he should ask.

"Yeah," Hiro said almost distantly from his own side of the room.

Tadashi looked over at him and saw him laying down, his hands placed over his stomach, his eyes looking up at the ceiling but seeing nothing. He had picked up a book as he got into bed, but he discarded it immediately and got out of bed again, walking over to Hiro's side of the room.

He sat down on Hiro's bed and reached out a hand, touching Hiro's shoulder lightly. Hiro's face was drawn, and his eyes came to look at Tadashi for a moment before fluttering shut and opening, looking away. He was totally unfocused, and not in his usual lackadaisical way—he was on another planet, from what Tadashi could tell. Tadashi pressed his hand more firmly into Hiro's arm, stirring him a little until Hiro's eyes met his again. Tadashi was ready to burst with worry.

His thoughts were racing, but all he asked was, "Do you want to talk about it?"

The words hung in the air like that for several moments. Hiro was chewing on his lip again, surprisingly intensely given his glazed over eyes, and Tadashi reached out and touched his lips to stop him. That got Hiro's attention, because that wasn't a normal touch for them, not even a late night in the dark kind of touch, but Tadashi admonished, "Don't bite your lip, you might make it bleed."

There were another couple moments of silence before Hiro said, "It was so real."

Tadashi had heard those words before, but he didn't hurry Hiro onto any new details. He would tell him everything he needed to know in his own time, and that was fine by him.

"There was a fire… We were outside this building, just talking, having a good time… and then there was this noise, and we turned around and the building had burst into flames…" he trailed off, almost as if losing his train of thought, but Tadashi just waited. "You went into the building for some reason, even though I didn't want you to," Hiro said, looking at him, as if Tadashi might know what his dream-self had been thinking. "You didn't come out," and at this he took a deep breath.

Another minute went by in silence, until Hiro said quietly, so quietly Tadashi almost couldn't hear him, "There was more, but… I… I—I don't really want to talk about it," and Hiro curled up on himself a little bit at the mere mention of saying more. It was probably the 'more' that had made Hiro so scared, although Tadashi couldn't imagine how awful it must have been. He stroked Hiro's arm comfortingly, wishing he could somehow take Hiro's mental anguish away. Tadashi knew he wasn't any better equipped to deal with these things than Hiro was, but at least he was older, a little stronger.

"No, that's okay," Tadashi said, hand moving to push the hair out of Hiro's eyes. It really was like a habit now, and Hiro leaned into the touch a little. "Do you think you could sleep now?"

Hiro looked at him and chewed on his bottom lip again. Tadashi reached out and stopped him again. They both just looked at each other for a moment, before Hiro asked, "Can I lay next to you? While you read, I mean?" He added quickly, "I won't distract you. I just… want to be close, is all."

"Yeah, sure," Tadashi said, and together they moved over to his bed, both feeling a little subdued compared to their normal selves. It had been a subdued day, and the day had a quiet ending. Tadashi picked his book up off the bed and shuffled in, sticking his feet under the blankets while Hiro did the same. As he settled into a comfortable sitting up position, Hiro came in close to him and rested his head next to his arm, close enough that Tadashi could feel his breath.

"Okay?" Hiro asked, a little nervously.

"Okay," Tadashi confirmed with a smile.

After about a half hour of simply being close to one another, Tadashi closed his book and turned to meet Hiro's half-lidded eyes. He was on the verge of dozing right there, and Tadashi ruffled his hair fondly so Hiro wouldn't be startled when he moved. Hiro reached out a hand and caressed his forearm, touch so gentle it mostly just tickled the hairs on Tadashi's arms. "What's going on?" and the _with you_ was implied. He said it softly, practically a whisper, but they both could hear that worry in his voice.

"These dreams… these nightmares," Hiro started, "They… make me think about our parents."

Tadashi had been looking down at Hiro from his sitting position, but at these words, he shifted downwards, pulling Hiro into his arms. There was no hesitation this time, and Hiro moved closer to him.

Most of the time, Hiro didn't talk about their parents. When he did, it was almost in passing—a mention that he couldn't really remember much about them, and that was that. It had hurt Tadashi for a long time to think that Hiro didn't remember anything about their parents—it made him feel like he was alone in the shouldering the burden of their death. But despite all Hiro said, Tadashi came to understand that he just wasn't very good at talking about these things, and feigning indifference was easier than feeling. You couldn't really mourn people you didn't know, but Hiro still mourned in his own way.

The mention of his parents made Tadashi choke up. After 11 years, that feeling of his breath being knocked out of him never went away. "What about our parents?" he said after collecting himself.

Hiro's eyes met his. "I just… wish I knew what they thought of me." Hiro was worrying his lip again, but Tadashi didn't dare interrupt this time. "I wish I knew if they were proud of me," and Hiro's voice was so quiet the words came out more like an exhale than a statement.

Tadashi felt a flood of emotions then, so many that for a moment, all he could do was hold Hiro tighter as he decided what to say. God, as if he didn't think those very same questions every day. It was always in the back of his mind, wondering what his parents thought of him, whether they would be pleased with how he had come to raise Hiro. It was different to have Hiro asking these kinds of questions. Part of him knew that it had only been a matter of time before Hiro asked about their parents, but another part of him thought if only he had done better, kept Hiro happier, Hiro wouldn't miss them so much.

"Tadashi?" Hiro asked.

Tadashi shook his head to break himself out of his reverie. He always got that way when talking about their parents. "Hiro," he started, his voice a little rough, "They would be so proud of you," and for good measure, he added, " _I'm_ so proud of you. We are all so, so proud of you."

Hiro's lip was trembling, and Tadashi was almost there with him. They each took in a deep breath, as if both trying to swallow a lump in their throats. Hiro had been sleepy when this conversation started, but his eyes were alert now. Tadashi saw him swallow again, and then came the big confession.

"What if I lose you, Tadashi?"

The dots connected in his mind, and Tadashi let out a deep breath. This was what it was—Hiro was troubled by their parents' random, tragic deaths, and was worried that Tadashi would be taken from him in a similar senseless, unpreventable way. Were Hiro's dreams manifestations of his fear of being alone? Was he finally old enough that his life's narrative was finally being pieced together, and he wasn't happy with it? Tadashi shook his head again, not sure whether those were Hiro's thoughts or his own.

"You have me," he said finally, "You'll always have me."

Hiro nodded and bit his lip again. There were tears shimmering in his eyes, and Tadashi felt inadequate. That was all he could give Hiro—reassurance that he would still be here—but it wasn't enough. He felt very _not enough_ , but now wasn't the time to think about that. Was there something else on Hiro's mind? Hiro reached out and touched his face, along the worry lines where his face was creased.

"And you have me," he said softly, before smiling a watery smile and squeezing Tadashi's arm.

Tadashi felt himself come back to reality, drawn away from his self-doubt by his brother's perfect words. When he really needed to, Hiro always knew what to say. Tadashi smiled back at him, sighing contently and rubbing his thumb up and down on Hiro's stomach from where his hand was thrown around Hiro's waist. He could feel the muscles of his abdomen twitch and then relax in response to the touch.

Hiro slept soundly, Tadashi's grip on him never wavering.


	6. His Job

**A/N:** Hello everyone and I apologize for the bit of delay for this next little drabble—school, as usual, demands a lot of attention. Nonetheless, here is a nice little update that will hopefully make it up to you. We take a break from some of the heavy topics we had discussed in the last chapter and get a little bit of fluff without so much angst! :) There will probably be another update later today as well, so I hope you enjoy!

 **Chapter 6:**

It was late, really late, when Tadashi finally looked at the clock in the lab. "Oh no!"

The clock read 2:12AM when he shot up out of his chair, closed down the lab and flew back to the café on his moped, cursing under his breath all the while. He hadn't meant to stay so late, especially knowing how Hiro had been the last couple of weeks. While it was entirely possible that Hiro was still up himself, tinkering with one of his projects, Tadashi worried that his brother had needed him, and he hadn't been there. Tadashi hated thinking that he hadn't been there for Hiro—that was his job.

Of course, all the lights were off in the café when he arrived, but as he headed upstairs, he saw light coming from the crack of their door. He opened it quietly, hoping that Hiro hadn't waited up for him, but his breath caught at what he saw and he was struck with the thought, _I am the worst brother ever._

Hiro was laying on Tadashi's bed, wearing Tadashi's shirt instead of his usual pajama top, curled around an extra pillow—and he was crying in his sleep. Tadashi felt his heart fall into his stomach at the sight, and while he knew that he hadn't left Hiro here on purpose—he had gotten involved with fixing a bug in his new project and lost track of time—he couldn't help the guilt that welled up inside him. The intensity of the feeling was literally and figuratively a little staggering.

"Oh, Hiro," he crooned, dropping his backpack and reaching out to touch him. Hiro's brows furrowed as Tadashi's weight settled on the bed, and his eyelids fluttered as Tadashi's hand brushed the hair out of his face. Tadashi could feel that Hiro's forehead was damp with sweat, and thought that tonight's dreams must had been going on for a while if Hiro was having a physical response like this.

"I'm so sorry, Hiro," and he felt such tenderness towards his brother in that moment that he leaned down and pressed a kiss to his forehead, the touch lingering as he berated himself for his absentmindedness. He knew Hiro would forgive him easily—this was no big deal in the grand scheme of things—but the lapse still felt like something meaningful, like he had forgotten something important.

That was because he had forgotten something important. He had forgotten Hiro.

When he pulled away, Hiro was looking at him with big, dark eyes. "Hey," Tadashi said, acknowledging him, hand still lingering close to Hiro's body on the sheets, as if just waiting for another opportunity to touch him. His words came out in a bit of a rush, "I'm so sorry Hiro, I was working on a project in the lab and just completely lost track of time—I swear it was only 10:30 when I last checked."

He looked at the clock, wincing. It was 2:53, and that meant he had lost track of a lot of time.

"S'okay," was all Hiro said for a while, before he moved and gestured to the spot next to him. He must have been too tired to be embarrassed at his neediness. Tadashi loved that kind of emotional openness, that emotional easiness that he and his brother shared. No secrets; total honesty—and if it took the cover of darkness for that intimacy to fully emerge, Tadashi wasn't going to complain. He knew he was the only one who ever saw Hiro like this and that fact gave him satisfaction of some kind.

"Okay," Tadashi finally answered, getting up and changing quickly. He could feel Hiro's eyes on him as he moved, watching him, even as he took off his shirt and pants, but he didn't find it odd. Hiro was probably worried he would disappear at any moment, judging by the desperation to be near him that he had showed on the previous nights. He went into the bathroom and brushed his teeth before padding back to bed. Hiro hadn't moved a muscle, and was still looking at him as he got into bed.

"Hey, you okay?" Tadashi asked, hand itching to touch Hiro's face again. He seemed a little in shock, and the guilt hit Tadashi in waves. The words tumbled out again, "Look, I really am sorry, I mean, I didn't mean to stay late at all, I know how hard it must have—"

He was silenced by a finger against his mouth, the motion just like Tadashi had done the other night to stop Hiro from biting his lip. The motion was still new, feeling different from even their closest late night gesture, and that made Tadashi hold his breath. Hiro just shook his head, seeming pretty awake for the first time that night, and said, "You're here now."  
"Yeah," Tadashi murmured, his lips pressing against Hiro's finger as he said it. "Okay."

They laid down to bed then, Hiro situating himself in Tadashi's arms like normal. They didn't say anything more, but Tadashi was awake for a while longer, turning over the events of the last few days in his mind. He didn't know how he felt about the whole situation; his mind was really a jumble of emotions, many of which he couldn't place or decide the significance of. Sadness and anxiety that Hiro was having these nightmares, bewilderment and flattery that their contents (the thought of his death) scared Hiro so much. Concern because Hiro was thinking about their parents and Tadashi wasn't sure he would be of much use—how could he help Hiro when he had never really dealt with it himself?

He was curious and intrigued by this turn of events and the quiet, late night relationship that was forming between him and Hiro, so different from their regular animated relationship. He felt like he was the same, but Hiro was very different—quieter, needier, more helpless. It brought out every one of Tadashi's protective instincts.

He wondered how long this was going to go on for, how many nights he would hold Hiro in his arms until the dreams would end and they could sleep separately. On the cusp of sleep himself, he could admit to himself that he wasn't really looking forward to that eventuality. He liked how Hiro felt next to him, fit into him, like two puzzle pieces fitting together. When Hiro was in his arms, Tadashi knew he was safe. It was a strange thought, but his sleep addled mind let it pass.


	7. Need

**A/N:** A little late in the day, but as promised, here is the next part of Night Changes! We get more fluff this chapter, and a little bit of the gang—although I have to admit, I don't see them playing much of a role in this story overall.

One thing I'd like to talk about is how Tadashi and Hiro often seem to be making the same movements and gestures. When I first wrote this drabble, there was on real clarification about this symmetry, but I added in some pieces so you guys would know I'm not just a lazy writer; I wanted to have both brothers use a lot of the same actions (lip biting, thumb stroking, etc.) so that it would be clear that even on a subconscious level, they are always influencing one another.

They say that one way you can tell that someone is engaged in a conversation is if their body language matches yours, so I thought I'd apply that reasoning to many of the boys actions.

 **Chapter 7:**

This continued for several more nights, Tadashi wrapping Hiro up in his arms each night, the two sleeping soundly. It wasn't a matter of asking permission anymore, but rather a matter of routine. Tadashi could tell that Hiro was still a little flustered by it all—Tadashi always noticed a flush on his cheeks when the boy first climbed into bed—but Hiro seemed to enjoy it enough that each night, he found himself clambering into bed next to Tadashi, curling up, and letting out a sigh of relief once Tadashi _had_ him.

But when Honey suggested a movie night to take a break from all the long nights they had been pulling in the lab, the routine they had developed was disrupted. Hiro didn't say anything about it, but Tadashi could see a flicker of anxiety in his eyes—he was probably thinking about the dreams that had set this entire series of events into motion, and Tadashi couldn't blame him. When Tadashi thought about those dreams himself, and the underlying fears that motivated them, even he felt unsettled. Still, they both agreed it was a good way to reward the gang for several weeks of hard work. Tadashi didn't think anyone else noticed the breathy quality of Hiro's laugh, or how he touched the back of his neck nervously, a habit that had developed years ago when he had started high school.

That night, their room was a pileup of blankets and bodies, people spread out across the floor with sleeping bags, extra pillows and comforters, snack food, and more. Aunt Cass had insisted the sleepover take place at their house because there was more room to spread out. This had been the only mercy in the planning that had favored their night time routine, but Tadashi knew Hiro was still unsettled.

They had ended their movie night with the intention of going to bed, but had spent at least another hour talking upstairs, everyone huddled around in a small circle. When it became clear that people were starting to doze off, the circle broke up, conversation quieted, and the room became more still with the calm of late night drowsiness. Tadashi's light was the only one left on, the single low light in the room making Tadashi's bed seem like a beacon.

He looked at Hiro in silence. Even at this distance, Tadashi could see that Hiro really was feeling anxious; he was biting his lip again, eyes drifting across the room from place to place, matching his presumably tumultuous mood. Hiro sat up and looked at him, eyes questioning and lost. Alone, they didn't have to ask for permission, but here—Hiro must have felt like he needed to ask permission.

Tadashi wasn't sure what to do. On the one hand, he wanted Hiro to sleep peacefully; on the other hand, their bed-sharing had been a private event, one that they never spoke about with others—one that they hardly even acknowledged between themselves. Would their friend think it strange to find them sleeping together? They were brothers, so it was possible their friends would probably just write it off to how close he and Hiro were (that's all it was, right?). They all knew that the two of them shared a special bond. It was impossible to grow up with their circumstances and not share a special connection.

But what if they woke up to find Hiro wrapped in Tadashi's arms, as they often did wake up? Although he and Hiro weren't in constant contact through the night, they always found their way back into each other's arms. Would that be awkward for his friends to see? Would it be awkward for him to explain to them? All these thoughts had occurred to Tadashi in a split second's time, and he looked again at Hiro, feeling torn. He knew he was probably overthinking the whole thing.

"Just try," Tadashi said in a whisper, loud enough that Hiro could hear him but quiet enough as to not wake up everyone else. "If you can't do it," and then came the permission, "you can sleep here."

Hiro nodded hesitantly, laying down in bed, placing his hands over his stomach. Even from this distance, Tadashi could see his wide open eyes staring at the ceiling and his fists clutching the blanket.

Tadashi sighed at the unhappy situation and turned the light off, settling down himself to sleep, expecting to knock out immediately after the long, fun night they'd all had—but sleep didn't come. He found himself mirroring Hiro's position from the other side of the room, arms over his stomach and staring up at the ceiling in the dark. He could hear Wasabi and Fred's light snores, while the girls were both very quiet. If he listened really hard, he thought he could hear Hiro's breathing, a little too loud and fast for true sleep. It was more like the panicked breath of just waking up from a nightmare, or of not wanting to sleep to avoid the nightmare. Guilt gnawed at him as he tossed and turned in bed.

Had he really gotten so used to Hiro lying in bed next to him that his absence made it hard to sleep? If he was honest with himself, the answer was yes: he had gotten so used to Hiro lying in bed with him that his absence made it hard to sleep. He missed the warmth of another body next to his, but more than that, he missed the warmth of Hiro's body next to his, fitting together perfectly. He missed the tickle of Hiro's hair under his chin and feeling Hiro's arm come to rest over his own on Hiro's waist.

His rational mind played devil's advocate: you are an adult, Hiro is 14 years old. You should not have to sleep in the same bed to get a good night's sleep; you should not need to be close to Hiro to know that he is safe and okay. The even harsher thoughts were, Hiro shouldn't need you this much, but that thought made him so deeply uncomfortable he put the brakes on his rational mind entirely. It was only making him feel unnecessarily anxious about something that had not caused him any anxiety thus far.

Tadashi felt very cold lying in bed, even though the covers were drawn up close to his chin—and that sense of loneliness and cold kept him up for a long time. He didn't know what time it was when he fell into a light sleep, but he knew it wasn't long after that when he heard the familiar, "Tadashi?"

He turned and saw that the clock said it was just a little past three in the morning, almost two hours after the group's conversations had quieted. When he faced Hiro, he squinted a little at the bright phone light in his face, but he guessed Hiro had used it so he didn't step on anyone on his way to Tadashi's bed. He looked like he had been lying in bed awake for hours, eyes wide open.

"Nothing?" he asked, tone joking but also a little worried. "Not even a wink of sleep?"

Hiro shook his head no, seeming embarrassed by this, but it was hard for Tadashi to tell because Hiro turned his phone off before he could get a good look. He likely didn't want to risk waking anyone.

Even at the late hour, Tadashi felt a moment of trepidation about his friends before he pulled back the covers and let Hiro get in next to him. The motions were automatic, and it was but a few seconds before they were back to the way they always were. He could feel Hiro relaxing almost immediately into his arms, snuggling close, thumb stroking over his forearm from where it laid on Hiro's waist. It was a gesture that Tadashi had found himself doing to Hiro a lot, that little movement surprisingly comforting.

Maybe Hiro could sense the concern Tadashi had about his friends and was doing what he could ease his restless mind. Even when Hiro was the one who really needed the comfort, he was doing what he could for his brother. Tadashi held him tighter at the thought, amazed at how he and Hiro were so similar and so different, how they knew each other almost as well as they knew themselves. That was something special, something to be cherished.

They both slept deeply after that.


	8. Good Morning

**A/N:** So I have a confession to make—this is a chapter I wrote very early on in writing this fic, before I really had any idea where I was wanted to go with this story. Given the seriousness of the previous chapters and the trajectory of the future chapters (you guys should know I have almost double the amount of fic that is posted, written), I now worry that this feels silly and out of place. However, I wrote it's events into events in the coming chapters, so it was sort of too late for me rehash it.

Having said that, this is one of my favorite fanfic tropes and I hope you guys can also enjoy it.

 **Chapter 8:**

In the end, nothing really came of the sleepover—none of his friends said anything about finding the two of them in bed together—so Tadashi forgot about it. He knew that when they all woke up, Hiro was undoubtedly wrapped in his arms, because he remembered how Hiro disentangling himself had woken him up. Blinking his bleary eyes, he sat up in bed next to Hiro and was met with two pairs of eyes watching him, Fred and Honey, both with little smiles on their faces. "Good morning Hamada bros," Fred said in a sleepy voice, while Honey gave them both fond looks. Hiro had climbed out of bed then, early morning brain not ready for human contact, before heading into the bathroom. And that was it—nothing more was ever sad about the sleeping arrangements, and Tadashi knew he had underestimated his friends.

So Tadashi went about his days like normal, and Hiro did the same. When night came, they went about their nightly normal, curled up against each other as the fall weather turned previously warm and humid nights quite chilly. Keeping each other warm was just an added perk of sleeping together, and Tadashi became so used to this routine that there was no awkwardness, no asking permission, the events unfolding easily each night. Hiro climbed into his bed as if it was the most natural thing he had ever done, and Tadashi pulled him into his arms as if that was the most natural thing he had ever done. That's all.

He didn't know whether Hiro had those dreams anymore, or would if they didn't sleep together. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he thought Hiro was probably fine now—although it was hard to tell, because they had never had any follow up conversations about their parents, or Hiro's fears of losing him. It left things feeling a little unresolved, but Tadashi doubted that what happened to their parents would ever feel resolved, and as far as his own death was concerned, it was hard to have closure about something that had yet to happen. Part of him wanted to let this last as long it could, regardless of the circumstances or reasons for doing so, because he liked holding Hiro close.

Things were comfortable, domestic—until one morning, a week after the sleepover, when Tadashi found himself in an awkward situation. There weren't many things that he had kept private from his brother in their years together— _but this,_ he thought, _I never anticipated having to explain to Hiro._ How did one anticipate having to explain getting an erection in bed next your brother?

Tadashi woke up slowly, feeling well-rested and warm next to his brother. After a night of rearranging, they found themselves in their regular night time posture, Hiro's back pressed against his front. The problem was that his body had apparently chosen to take notice of this fact for the first time since Hiro had started sleeping with him, and as Tadashi came to awareness, he felt himself flush. _Oh no_.

Tadashi was a young man, so he certainly had sexual urges; but he didn't give them much thought, and certainly not when it came to morning erections. When this happened, he considered his sexuality more a bodily function to be taken care of rather than as a pleasurable pastime.

But this state of affairs wouldn't be handled so easily. For whatever reason, his body had decided now was the time to make his sexuality known again, and made this decision while Hiro was in bed with him. Tadashi prayed that Hiro hadn't noticed yet, and wouldn't notice it—because that would definitely make this whole sharing a bed thing awkward, and he didn't want to end this pleasant bed sharing arrangement on the account of some inconvenient biological need. He didn't want Hiro to be freaked out.

He tried thinking any number of unpleasant thoughts, willing the erection away, but it was unmoved by his plight. He thought he would just wake up and get out of bed normally, take care of this situation with Hiro none the wiser, but when he went to turn, pulling his arm away from Hiro's waist, Hiro snuggled back against him, fighting wakefulness and pulling him close.

And then he stopped, tensing against his body, seeming to realize. Tadashi wanted to disappear.

He couldn't decide whether to quickly get up or just let Hiro slowly move away, but he was already cursing himself mentally as Hiro just got more and more uncomfortable next to him. Tadashi could see the tips of his ears turning red. Tadashi decided to go for the fastest approach, getting out of bed quickly, jostling Hiro but not feeling particularly sorry just then. Embarrassment taking over all else, Tadashi went into the bathroom with a halfhearted muttering of "Shower," closing the door behind him.

He would be so upset with himself if he ruined this. _Ruined what?_ he found himself asking. The rational part of his brain said that this was just something that happened—it only had as large a significance as he gave it. If he didn't make a big deal out of this, then neither would Hiro.

The less rational part of his mind said that Hiro would never want to be close to him again, although he knew his anxiety was distorting his thoughts. How could he look Hiro, look his brother, in the eye after getting an erection in bed next to him? How could Hiro look at him, knowing that had happened, even if they both knew that this wasn't anything sexual? But that was the thought that really reverberated around his mind, playing itself over and over, especially because he wasn't actually sure what Hiro knew that these things happened without having a sexual connotation.

Hiro may have been a child genius, but he had yet to really start puberty—and that meant he may not know that Tadashi's erection didn't mean anything, that it didn't mean Tadashi was attracted to him.

Tadashi turned on the shower and stepped in quickly, feeling the hot water pound against his back in a soothing way. He felt his muscles relaxing a little and let his mind drift away from the current worries—it wouldn't do either him or Hiro any good to approach this situation with an irrational mind. However, there was still one important matter of business to take care of—the cause of all this trouble.

He didn't put much thought into the fantasy—he usually didn't have to—but as he was reaching his climax, he found his mind filling in details that were usually left unattended. His fantasy supplied what his partner would smell like, their body build, what their eyes looked like… If the mental description he came up with bore any resemblance to his little brother on the other side of the door, his arousal-addled mind didn't give him the time to consider it. He came with a quiet groan, feeling the tension seep out of him. He let the evidence wash down the drain—out of sight, out of mind.

He didn't even think about it when he stepped out of the shower, toweled off, and walked out with said towel wrapped around his hips to grab a change of clothes. He did start thinking about it when Hiro turned around from his computer desk to look at him, his face turning a deep shade of red.

Whoops.

Tadashi wanted to hit himself for his ignorance. Of course Hiro would feel uncomfortable in this situation, given what had happened not twenty minutes before. He had walked out mindlessly because he had forgotten his clothes and because this wasn't the first time he had walked out in just a towel, but clearly his better judgment had lapsed. He cleared his throat a little, grabbing spare clothes quickly and reemerging, fully dressed, a few minutes later. "Hiro?" he started tentatively.

Hiro turned and looked at him, his face flushing again before he averted his eyes. "Yeah?"

"I'm sorry about," Tadashi searched for the words, then cleared his throat, "This morning."

"Yeah," Hiro said uneasily, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "It's… um, it's—fine."

And that seemed to be all that Hiro had to say about the matter, because when Tadashi gave him a searching look he just turned around to face the computer again. Tadashi could see the tips of his ears burning—he must have felt very warm. He could feel his own face starting to burn, so he thought the best thing he could do for both their sake would be to leave and give Hiro his space, so Tadashi packed up his school bag and headed downstairs. A day away from one another could help remove the emotional awkwardness attached with this memory, because Tadashi didn't want to spend all his time ignoring Hiro, not being able to talk to Hiro because of some unfortunate circumstances outside of his control.

All he could think as he headed down the stairs was that he really hoped he hadn't ruined this—ruined what he had with Hiro.


	9. Night Time Confessions

**A/N:** Hello folks! I hope you know I love you all, because of a couple of things. First off, some of you have left very sweet and well thought out reviews. Don't get me wrong, I love all reviews—but I especially love the ones that say 'I liked when you wrote x' or 'The way you described y gave me chills.' I guess I like it so much because it's one of the only ways I have of knowing that what I'm imagining is truly being translated into words, so it provides a comfort.

While the events of the previous chapter are not forgotten in this chapter, there is some important progress going on here. Maybe this is something that I should just let all of you realize, but I almost feel like it's better if I explain some important distinctions of how things are expressed in the relationship we see unfolding here.

I always thought that expressing emotions would exist on a continuum in this story—from sleepy thoughts in the dark to spoken words during the day. So in this chapter, we see the very beginning of what I imagine to be a significant expression of emotion—in Tadashi's thoughts and a little in his words at night. I really do think it's a meaningful distinction for our characters—which is why Tadashi makes a note of what some thoughts are easier to accept than others. This is a recurring theme that you guys will see later on the story, too.

 **Chapter 9:**

When night fell again, Tadashi wasn't sure what to do. He had come home from the lab late again, although this time in a misguided attempt to avoid any awkward conversations—but he had been surprised to see Hiro was still awake. They had exchanged a few pleasantries since his return and air had become less heavy and uncomfortable, but this was a different matter. It was one thing to say "hey" and "how was your day" and another to share a bed again after what had happened this morning. Although Tadashi didn't want to assume Hiro's feelings, he suspected that Hiro was still feeling flustered about the whole thing. When Tadashi asked him to join him, he felt like he was inviting Hiro to return to him after inadvertently breaking his trust, and that's what Tadashi thought this was really all about—broken trust.

"Hiro?" he ventured, watching Hiro from across the room, hands resting on the partition, ready to pull it closed if Hiro wanted that kind of separation from him. He thought it was very symbolic, and he felt an ache in his bones and his heart as he thought about shutting the partition on his brother. Even if it was only for one night, Tadashi didn't want that—he didn't want anything to come between them.

Hiro turned and looked at him with his big, dark eyes and Tadashi felt like the wind had been taken out of him. He didn't know what made him feel that way, but the feeling was undeniable. He stood there a little dazed while waiting for Hiro to answer and told himself to focus. "Yeah?" Hiro asked.

"I'm, um, heading to bed, if you want to…" He couldn't say the words. _Join me?_

There was a moment of silence where Hiro chewed on his lip. Tadashi asked another question, giving him some more time to think about his first. "Have you had that dream again?"

Tadashi saw Hiro's face color at this, clearly embarrassed. Tadashi didn't know whether it was from the reminder of the nightmare or something else, but it was a while before Hiro spoke again. Softly, almost so softly Tadashi didn't hear him, he murmured, "Not since I have stayed with you."

His heart swelled at Hiro's admission and he felt a sense of pride at having helped his brother. But while he didn't want to be the one who put down the line of separation if his brother still needed him, Tadashi thought he might know what Hiro wanted. Maybe Hiro was afraid of hurting his feelings, so he wouldn't ask to stay by himself again? It had been almost three weeks since this began, and if Hiro hadn't had that dream again, it might have been time for them to separate. The thought made his stomach clench, but Tadashi still offered, "Do you want to try and go it alone tonight?"

Go it alone. The phrase sounded a lot harsher when he said it aloud than when he had thought it.

He walked over to Hiro then, not wanting him to feel isolated when Tadashi had only meant that he could try and… Well, the right words were hard to think of, probably because his own mind was so addled with feelings; so he crouched down in front of Hiro and reassured him, "Whatever you want."

"I could try," Hiro offered, and Tadashi wish he had said a little more. Was Hiro worried like he was? Did Hiro feel a sense of loss, a sense of separation anxiety, at the thought of being apart?

"Okay," Tadashi said, standing up. Hiro got up out of his chair, his back protesting audibly after hours of staying in the same position. Tadashi was pulling back the covers of his own bed, climbing in, watching Hiro as he changed into his sleep clothes. He thought he should probably look away, but he felt like he needed some reassurance himself that Hiro was ready for this. _Maybe I'm just not ready for this_ , his brain supplied traitorously. It was true—he had thought these kinds of thoughts before, although he didn't like to think about them when he was still so awake. His brother was his own person and had the right to be independent. It was his job to look out for him, yes, but not to stop him from growing.

Tadashi bit his lip, watching as Hiro climbed into his own bed, which had gone unrested in since their friends had slept over. From across the room, Hiro met his eyes and gave him a small smile.

"Don't bite your lip," Hiro said half-seriously, half-jokingly, repeating what Tadashi had said.

Tadashi let his poor lip go, touching it absentmindedly with his fingers before smiling a little back at Hiro. "Ready?" he asked, reaching for the light next to his bed. He saw Hiro nod and flipped the light off, plunging the room into darkness. He listened to Hiro rustle around in his bed, trying to find a comfortable spot, and Tadashi did the same, feeling unreasonably nervous about the whole thing.

They didn't say anything after that, and Tadashi spent a long time looking up at the ceiling before he fell into an uneasy sleep.

He didn't know what woke him up a few hours later, but he was up, staring out into the dark room when he heard it—a little whimper coming from Hiro's side of the room. It made every hair on his body stand on end; an extreme reaction, but it was purely visceral, no thinking involved. Still, he forced himself to lay there, wondering if he should go to Hiro or let Hiro come to him like before, but it was hard to wait it out when the whimpers came again, and then more frequently. _Hiro will tell you if he needs you,_ one side of his mind argued, while the other suggested that _Hiro's asleep, he can't come for you to help._

It had probably only been five minutes, but Tadashi couldn't stand to hear his brother suffer needlessly. It was practically encoded in his DNA to prevent that. _And besides… you need him too._

He thought the words, and let them stay there. He didn't mean it in the usual family-sticks-together kind of way, not in the usual way he meant it when he thought about Hiro. This was a new kind of needing Hiro, but he didn't know how or what to really think about it. So he just let the truth stay there, unanalyzed, thoughts he would return to at a later time, when he didn't need his brother and his brother didn't need him. Right now, he worried his lip and padded over to his brother's side of the room.

Crouching down beside his bed, he waited until his eyes adjusted fully to the dark, so that he could make out his brother's sleeping face. It was scrunched up a little, as though in concentration or distress, and Tadashi saw more than told his hand to push the hair out of Hiro's face. When Hiro started whimpering again, squirming a little in his sheets, brow furrowing, Tadashi couldn't take it anymore.

"Hey," he whispered, "Hiro, it's okay," and he passed his hand through Hiro's hair again, trying to gently coax him into wakefulness. He didn't want to scare Hiro out of a nightmare, so he just kept saying "Hey," and "It's okay," until he saw Hiro's eyes open slowly, unfocused. Tadashi could tell Hiro was a little startled to see him there, but he recovered quickly, drowsiness steadily clearing from his eyes.

"'Dashi," Hiro mumbled, "What're you doin'?"

Somehow, Tadashi didn't even feel self-conscious about his actions, and he continued them, running his hands through Hiro's unruly mane until he bangs were smooth and untangled. "You were having a bad dream, weren't you?" he asked, thumb stroking over Hiro's temple soothingly.

Hiro looked away and looked back, "How did you know?"

"I heard you," and at this, he could see Hiro's embarrassment, clear on his face. "Hey, that's what I'm here for—I never want you to struggle alone," he said, and the significance of the words was not lost on either of them. Earlier he had said Hiro should go it alone—but he realized that that wasn't what either of them wanted. At least, he didn't think that that was what Hiro wanted—he hoped not at least.

"Can you… stay?" Hiro asked in a whisper, hand reaching out from under the covers to touch Tadashi's own, which had moved from his hair to caress his face. Hiro's fingers wrapped around his own, intertwining for a quick moment, and there was no way Tadashi could say no to his obvious plea.

Hiro moved back to give Tadashi some room in the bed, but he didn't turn away from him—although that had happened a few times since they started sharing a bed, it didn't happen often, and usually meant something important was about to happen. Tadashi settled in all the same, then watched Hiro's face shift through what seemed like dozens of emotions, all in a few seconds. He bit his lip anxiously before tucking his head under Tadashi's chin, and Tadashi wrapped his arms around him. Hiro was obviously wrestling with something in his mind, so Tadashi asked, "Hey, what's going on?"

There were several more moments of silence before Hiro spoke again, lips practically pressed against Tadashi's throat they were so close. Tadashi had to suppress a body-wide tremble at the feeling of Hiro's lips and breath against his Adam's apple. "Is it weird… how I need you?" Hiro asked finally.

The tremble he had tried to suppress went through him, and he could tell that Hiro felt it too from how he tried to pull away, probably wondering and uncertain about his reaction. But Tadashi just held him tighter as he thought over what Hiro had asked. It was like the two of them were sharing the same brain, because really, wasn't Hiro's question just a follow up to Tadashi's realization that he needed Hiro?

He moved so that he could use his hand to pull up Hiro's chin, so that they were making eye contact. "Maybe," he said honestly, "But I need you that way too." The next words came without thinking, and his voice got a little husky as he said them—"You'll always have me." This time, the words took on even more meaning than when he had said them to comfort Hiro about their parents.

Hiro nodded at this, biting his lip again. Tadashi used his thumb to pull Hiro's bottom lip free of his merciless teeth, and their eyes met again. With the light of the moon shining through the window, Tadashi could see Hiro clearly, and he thought he saw something dark and deep shining in his eyes. He wondered if that was the same kind of expression Hiro saw when looking at him, and what it meant.

The conflict of this morning was totally forgotten, because that wasn't what their relationship was about. It wasn't about misunderstandings, fights or the like—although those things obviously did happen. No, Tadashi thought, it was about Hiro needing him, and him needing Hiro, and them both being there for each other, no matter what. And while inviting Hiro to stay with him that night had been an extension of permission, an attempt at a truce in these trying times, it didn't matter that they had fallen apart for a moment, because in the end, the always came back together.

As the haze of drowsiness took over, Tadashi pressed his lips to Hiro's forehead. It was a slow, purposeful moment, not hurried or awkward, because Tadashi didn't feel like he needed to hurry or like this was awkward. He was telling his brother how he felt without using words, and as he pulled back, he thought his message had hit home because Hiro's eyes were wide with surprise.

Hiro's hands reached out for him, cupping his face on each side, thumbs stroking over his cheeks, fingers in his hair. His movements weren't as fluid, but he pulled himself up so that he, too, could give Tadashi a kiss on the forehead. It had that same meaningful, intentional air about it, and Tadashi let out the breath he hadn't known he had been holding.

They looked at each other for another moment, before Hiro gave him a smile, letting his hands fall back to the bed. The point was made—they didn't need to say anything else—so Hiro turned around and nestled himself into Tadashi's arms, relaxing.

Tadashi smiled, though Hiro didn't see it, and held him tight because deep down inside, he knew he would be lost without him.


	10. Not Enough

A/N: Hello everyone! Sorry it has been a little while longer than usual between updates—this week was a crazy week when it came to school work. I had four papers due today, as well as a statistics homework set. I won't spend too long prefacing this chapter with author's notes since you guys probably just want to get to the good stuff, but there is one thing I'd like to address.

A lot of reviewers have mentioned their interest to see the real reasons behind Hiro's terrible distress and nightmares, and I'm stoked that you guys are curious! I just want to do a little expectation management here though—there is not going to be some new overarching plot element that explains Hiro's feelings above and beyond the thematic elements that have already been introduced. That's not to say that you should understand Hiro's feelings entirely right now, because I definitely have not given you the tools to do so. And that's also not to say that nothing new will be coming up in this next couple of drabbles—quite the contrary, I would like to think!

Anyway, if you're like, "What is this girl talking about?", feel free to ignore me. This is probably just my sleep deprived brain providing answers to questions you don't really have, haha.

 **Chapter 10:**

The next night, Tadashi came back from lab to find Hiro sitting on his bed, gazing out the window, mind a million miles away. Tadashi could instantly sense a sort of somberness to the room and to Hiro himself; Hiro's face was lit by a combination of the moonlight and the streetlamps outside, and he had an ethereal sort of look about him, almost as if he was glowing from the inside. His legs were pulled up against his chest and his arms were wrapped around them, lending him an air of insecurity. The sight was truly one to behold—Hiro was the perfect combination of godly beauty with childlike innocence to take Tadashi's breath away. He had to shake himself free of his thoughts, to reengage with reality.

Tadashi put down his bag, toed off his shoes, and murmured a soft "Hey," approaching Hiro from his side of the room. "You okay?"

Hiro started from where he sat, and when he turned to face Tadashi, Tadashi felt his heart clench. There were tears in Hiro's eyes, droplets clinging heavily to his eyelashes, but a moment from falling. Tadashi sat down on the bed next to him, laying a gentle hand on his shoulder. "What's wrong, Hiro?"

Hiro looked away, wiping his eyes to rid them of their tears. "It's… It's nothing," he said, seeming to choose his words carefully, "I just… I'm just thinking too much for my own good."

Tadashi took one of Hiro's hands from where they were wrapped around his knees and placed it between his own. The hand was cold to the touch, so he rubbed their hands together briskly to generate some heat. Tadashi tried to project a sense of calm through this simple gesture, hating to see Hiro upset. "Anything I can help you with?" he asked. "This brain of mine has to be good for something."

Hiro snorted a little waved his words away with his other hand, the attempt at humor not lost on him. His legs relaxed and then crossed again and he turned to face Tadashi more directly and Tadashi took that as permission to sit on the bed across from him. The two of them sat, mirror images of one another, just a few years apart, legs crossed and hands in their laps. Tadashi's hands wanted to take Hiro's again, warm them, but he stopped himself. He wanted Hiro to make this confession without being stuck in the mire of his affection, untainted by his words or his actions. He didn't know why he thought what Hiro was about it say was a confession; it just felt like one.

"Well," Hiro said finally, taking a deep breath. For a moment, Tadashi thought he seemed quite collected, but then Hiro's lip quivered and he took another breath, this time shaky. "It's sort of hard… to explain. It's…" Hiro averted his eyes just then, and then it came: "It's about you, Tadashi."

Tadashi felt like his blood had turned to ice—had he done something that had upset Hiro, and to have upset him this badly? Maybe Hiro wasn't okay with how things had gone yesterday morning? Maybe he felt neglected? Tadashi had spent a lot of time in the lab recently, he did know that. His thoughts were all in a jumble, but he didn't voice any of them because they didn't make any sense and he knew that they wouldn't help Hiro feel any better, which was all he cared about. All he managed was a meek, "About me?" He searched Hiro's eyes for the clue that would help him understand this.

Hiro chewed on his lip nervously, himself monitoring Tadashi's face for change. "It's…" he let out a little sound of frustration. "I don't… I can't…"

Tadashi was desperate to get somewhere, with this. He wanted Hiro to speak for himself, but he was so worried. He spoke quickly, a little flustered, "If this is about what happened yesterday, I am so—"

"No, no!" Hiro exclaimed, waving his hands in front of him. "It's not about that at all. Well, maybe… No, it's not really about that, that's not important…It's just… I just…" He groaned and threw his hands in the air, turning away from Tadashi. He hunched, his hands coming down and ruffling this hair, making it stand up in all directions. Tadashi was totally at a loss of what to say, especially when Hiro's shoulders started shaking, signaling that he was crying again. Tadashi's heart couldn't take it.

"Oh, Hiro," Tadashi whispered, coming up behind his brother and wrapping his arms around him. Tadashi uncrossed his legs and placed them on either side of Hiro's body, arms hooked under Hiro's, pulling him closer as his hands splayed out across his chest and stomach. He placed his cheek against Hiro's back, but Hiro continued to cry, his tears unmoved by Tadashi's closeness or comfort. "Oh, Hiro, I know you been having a hard time lately, but… I can't help you unless you tell me what's going on."

The truth was, Tadashi felt like his heart was being ripped out. It killed him inside to know that somehow, he was the cause of all this anguish, but what hurt even more was not knowing what he did. If only he knew how he had wronged Hiro, he would do anything and everything in his power to make it right and make Hiro feel better. If the teen never told him that, what was he supposed to do?

Hiro just continued to cry, whispering a soft, "I can't tell… I'm not… I'm not ready—"

"Shhh, shhh, that's okay," Tadashi said, even though he would have given an arm and a leg to know what was troubling Hiro just then. But he didn't want to push Hiro, or push him away. What had he done wrong? If it wasn't what had happened the previous morning, what could it be?

So Tadashi said the only thing he thought might help in this situation: "Do you want to go to bed?" Hiro needed him right now, and Tadashi thought that lying down in the dark would be the perfect scenario to remind his brother that he was there for him. In the cover of night, they could be honest.

"Okay," Hiro said, although he made no motion to get up. He placed his hands over Tadashi's larger ones, slotting their fingers together and squeezing. There was that desperation again, the same kind that Tadashi had felt the night Hiro had his worst nightmare yet, and that scared Tadashi, it scared him to his very core. There was something tormenting Hiro, and there was nothing that he could do about it.

He felt totally helpless.

They stayed like that for another minute before Hiro squirmed out of his hold. He turned to face Tadashi and gave a wobbly smile, a smile that meant the world to Tadashi at that moment because he just felt so damn lost. They each started changing for bed before Hiro met him on his side of the room. He was fiddling with the hem of his shirt while he waited for Tadashi to come out of the bathroom. That gesture told Tadashi that that small smile on Hiro's bed had been purely for his benefit, and that Hiro was still troubled. Tadashi felt a weight being placed on his shoulders, a pull under his eyes and pressure behind his temples at the thought. It was a heavy burden to bear, feeling like the only person Hiro had in this world. It didn't matter whether it was actually true—it was how Tadashi had always felt, and he felt it especially strongly in that moment, when he wished he could have passed this problem onto his mother or father, anyone more capable than he. As hard as it was to accept, and as much as Tadashi fought it, he knew that he wasn't enough for Hiro. He didn't always know what to do—he was only one person.

"You can get in bed," he told Hiro around a mouthful of toothpaste, and that's what Hiro did. He laid down and waited for Tadashi to join him, looking uncertain and confused and lonely. Tadashi watched him out of the corner of his eye before spitting out his toothpaste, washing out his mouth, and looking at himself in the mirror. He felt suddenly uncomfortable in his own skin, as if this situation would be a whole lot easier to deal with if he just wasn't himself, wasn't _who_ he was. Tadashi thought that he probably could have handled this if he hadn't had so many other things to deal with already in life.

Sighing deeply, he wiped his mouth on his towel and walked over to the bed where Hiro laid. He gave Hiro a little smile, the brightest he could manage given the circumstances, hoping to lighten the mood. He saw the sides of Hiro's mouth twitch into an almost-smile and knew the effort had been worth it—the effort was always worth it to see Hiro smile. Smile aside, Tadashi still had a million troubled thoughts running through his mind, most of them nonsensical and clouded by worry.

Hiro snuggled in close to him, hands grasping his sleep shirt in loose fists. That was different, but Tadashi didn't feel the need point it out, lest Hiro feel even more emotionally vulnerable than he already did. Tadashi turned off the light, the room was shrouded in darkness, and Tadashi waited. Whenever Hiro turned to face him in bed these days, it meant there was something big coming—and after that something big was shared, then he would turn around and fall asleep, the weight lifted off his shoulders. He waited and waited, watching the digital clock change from minute to minute, until ten minutes had passed.

And then he felt it—tears on his shirt collar. _Oh god_ , Tadashi thought, stomach tying itself into knots at the realization of what was happening. Instead of weight being lifted off Hiro's shoulders, it seemed like the pressure was just increasing. Tadashi felt that same kind of weight crushing him, and Tadashi tightened his hold on Hiro's waist, pulling him impossibly closer—so that their bodies were touching almost from head to toe. He felt Hiro tremble a little in his arms, but the tears didn't stop, each tiny droplet on his neck like a cut to the jugular. Tadashi couldn't help but tremble himself at the intensity of emotions he was feeling.

He knew Hiro was awake from his unsteady breathing. "Hiro, please," he all but begged. "Let me help."

He didn't really know what he was offering, because he really didn't know what he could do to help. Tadashi waited and waited, but Hiro never said anything—but he never turned away from Tadashi either, which just seemed like the perfect metaphor for this situation as a whole. As long as Hiro faced him, Tadashi would know that he was needed, and that was comforting—but until Hiro explained everything, Tadashi would know that he was hiding something from him, and that was torture.

Twenty more minutes had passed and Hiro had fallen asleep as Tadashi watched the time pass. If Hiro had still been awake, he might have felt Tadashi bury his face in Hiro's hair, or felt the tears that fell down into it, or heard the strangled little breath of Tadashi's helplessness. They were close together, but Tadashi felt like they might as well have been worlds apart. To make matters worse, he knew this reaction wasn't normal—he knew that none of this was normal: the dreams, the sleeping together, the depth of emotional feeling between the two of them—but he just couldn't help himself.

Hiro slept on ignorantly; Tadashi felt very alone.


	11. The Confession

A/N: Hello everyone! Another couple days between updates, but midterm season is quick approaching here, so that means a lot of time spent trying to remember all that junk I learned in the first have of the semester, haha. I'm sure many of guys have been there and understand where I'm coming from.

In any case, here is the next drabble in this series! And it's very exciting (I hope) because we get our first big confession! Ground control to Major Tom, we have a confession from the younger Hamada! I really wrestled with myself about how to portray this pivotal moment, but I decided that in the end, it had to be done in the same quiet, careful way that has characterized a lot of this fic. I hope you find it satisfying.

 **Chapter 11:**

Tadashi woke up the next morning to find himself alone in bed. He could hear Hiro taking a shower and sighed, turning to lay on his back, hands resting on his stomach, staring up at the ceiling with bleary eyes—he couldn't help but feel like he had spent a lot of time in this position lately. He had only just awoken and felt the stress of the previous days weigh on him, making him want to curl up and go right back to sleep. What was he going to do? How was he going to deal with this situation?

The truth was, he felt totally incapable of handling anything today. He bit his lip, got up, and got dressed; by the time Hiro came out of the shower, Tadashi had gone. He knew it was wrong to run away from Hiro like this, but Tadashi needed time away to think about everything—but most importantly, to think about Hiro. When Hiro was around, his feelings always made it too difficult to think clearly.

Unfortunately, by the time he came home that night he didn't feel any better about things. He had run through what seemed like hundreds of different explanations and scenarios to account for Hiro's behavior, but none of it really felt right. His friends had sensed how lost he felt and had tried to help, but Tadashi knew he'd never be able to explain what was going on when he hardly even knew himself. He knew they knew that it had to do with Hiro—they had all explicitly asked him that—but beyond that, they weren't much help, and it wasn't their fault. He was grateful to have such good friends in the first place.

Hiro was tinkering with a project when he came upstairs that night. If Hiro had heard him arrive, he didn't give any indication, eyes never leaving his work. Tadashi stood and watched him work, mesmerized by his careful actions—it was always so amazing to see his brother, usually so uncontainable and energetic, attend to the small details of the project. Tadashi couldn't help but find it magical how immersed Hiro could become. He didn't want to disturb him, so he quietly went about changing into more comfortable clothes. He laid in bed and took out a book to read, but found it hard to concentrate.

Hiro didn't make a sound until almost twenty minutes later, when he gave made an angry noise and pushed himself away from his work, turning around in his chair and cradling his head in his hands, clearly distraught. He stayed like that for a long time, and Tadashi watched him silently, feeling fairly certain that it wasn't just the quirks of his project that troubled his brother.

Finally, Hiro looked up and saw him, crying out, "T-Tadashi!" He put his hand over his heart to steady its rapid beating, "How long have you been here?"

Tadashi couldn't help the natural laugh that bubbled up out of his chest. It felt so good to fall into that easy happiness he normally shared with Hiro, "It's been a while, bro," teasing him. "I've been in this room for about half an hour." Hiro flushed and bit his lip, apologizing, but Tadashi just waved it away.

They fell into silence then, Tadashi watching Hiro, Hiro looking down at the floor. The book lay in his lap, forgotten, and this time, it was Tadashi who bit his lip. "Hiro…" he started, knowing that they needed to have this conversation. It was really important, whatever it was going to be about.

"I'm sorry," Hiro said suddenly, not letting Tadashi get any further into his worried-brother dialogue. He stood up and slowly made his way over to Tadashi, looking at him in the eyes, leaning against the partition in their room. "I shouldn't have… I didn't mean to… I didn't mean to make you feel so bad about things, when none of this was any of your fault." He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, looking already a lot lighter than he had been a few minutes ago. "It wasn't fair of me to do that to you."

Tadashi was surprised at Hiro's very mature apology, but also relieved to have the lines of communication open between them. "Hey, it's okay," he reassured Hiro, "You feel what you feel—you can't always talk about it right away. I don't want to push you if you're not ready."

"No, I need to tell you something," Hiro said, ignoring his words if how quickly he had spoken was any indication; he probably just wanted to be done with it. "But promise me you won't freak out."

A million possibilities went through Tadashi's head, but he put the brakes on all of them.

"Why don't you come over here?" he asked, putting his book aside and crossing his legs. Hiro made his way over to him, clearly feeling uncertain by Tadashi's avoidance, before he sat on the bed, legs folded underneath him. "I will do my best not to freak out," he said after a long pause, but didn't promise.

Hiro took another deep breath, trying to calm his nerves. "Tadashi," he started, but then faltered. Whatever he was about to say was difficult, because he swallowed several times and kept averting his eyes, looking at Tadashi and then looking away, before his eyes were inevitably drawn back. He moved forward to where Tadashi was on the bed, and sat next to him so that their bodies touched, Hiro's hip touching Tadashi's leg where it laid. Tadashi thought Hiro was very warm and comfortable to have near, but he was shaken out of his thoughts when Hiro said in a tumble of words, "I love you."

Tadashi blinked several times, tilting his head to the side in confusion. They both seemed to be waiting for more, so Tadashi said, "Hiro, you know I love you too—"

"No!" Hiro said surprisingly fiercely, hands waving out in front of him—whatever he had been expecting Tadashi to say, that wasn't it. "That's not what I mean, and you know it!" His eyes pleaded with Tadashi to understand, but Tadashi was oblivious. What did Hiro want him to say, if not that he loved him too?

Hiro put his face in his hands again and Tadashi saw the tips of his ears turning red. He was embarrassed again, and Tadashi thought that that might be the end of things; usually when Hiro was flustered, he shut down. "That's not what I meant," Hiro whispered, just loud enough for Tadashi to hear.

Hiro crawled over to Tadashi, kneeling in front of him. Tadashi tried reading the emotions flittering across Hiro's face, but they were hard to make sense of—he was scared, upset, self-conscious, and something else that Tadashi couldn't quite place. Hiro reached out to him then, trembling hands touching his face in the gentlest of ways, and Tadashi held his breath, suddenly understanding where this was going. He felt like his heart was going to beat straight of his chest, but he didn't, couldn't, stop Hiro.

Hiro's thumbs brushed his cheekbones, like they had done the other night when they had kissed each other's foreheads, but when Hiro leaned in, he wasn't aiming for Tadashi's forehead—his lips landed squarely on Tadashi's own, startling a gasp out of him. It was a slow and deliberate movement, meant to tell Tadashi something. Hiro didn't really know how to kiss, so he just pressed his lips against Tadashi's, praying that his older brother understood what he was trying to say, waiting for him to react. Tadashi didn't push him away, but he didn't seem to respond either, so Hiro pulled away, his anxiety and doubt apparent on his face. Hiro was shaking a little as he looked at him expectantly.

"Oh," Tadashi managed pathetically. _So that's what he meant_.

Hiro was still waiting for him, waiting for him to say something more, but Tadashi didn't even know what to think. Could Hiro really mean what he had said? His instincts told him that Hiro was too young to really understand these kinds of feelings, especially since Tadashi had been one of the only unwavering presences in his life. Of course Hiro would get overly-attached to him when that was the case. It was completely possible that he would misinterpret his feelings for Tadashi as feelings of being in love with him instead of just loving him. He wondered to himself, _just loving him?_

Why did it sound like that wasn't enough?

He could feel Hiro's breath, hot and quick against his face. He was still so close, and his closeness was making it hard for Tadashi to think. What was he supposed to think when he brother was this close, wearing his heart on his sleeve, having just confessed his love for him?

Another part of him, a more traitorous part, said that he knew where Hiro was coming from, because Tadashi had thought those kinds of thoughts too, in the back of his mind on the darkest of nights right before he fell asleep. He had thought about Hiro in ways that weren't perfectly normal, but had he crossed the line into a different kind of love? He didn't think so—he just wasn't there yet. He didn't want to hurt his brother's feelings, but he also didn't want to lie; there was only more pain to come from that.

His rational mind supplied an additional issue: he didn't want to get arrested, which was a valid concern when they were brothers and Hiro was still underage. He put his hands on Hiro's shoulders and pushed him away gently, feeling his stomach tie up in knots, and watched as Hiro's face went through dozens of emotions again in just a few moments. He looked like his stomach was in knots too.

Although it was surprisingly difficult to admit, Tadashi knew he couldn't go down this path with Hiro.


	12. Torment

**A/N:** A direct continuation of the previous chapter; the aftermath of the confession. I wanted to emphasize the brothers' aloneness when they are not together. It is a powerful image to me to have these two inseparable characters be separated from one another, especially when we have one Hamada brother very consciously separated himself from the other.

I won't lie, there are less sunshine, lollipops, and rainbows in the coming chapters, and a lot more emotional intensity from both of our favorite characters. These two are endgame with a /happy/ ending, so you don't have to worry about that, at least.

 **Chapter 12:**

Tadashi knew his silence had been extremely damaging to Hiro. Every second that passed without a sound was likely a dagger in Hiro's heart, so after several tense beats, he focused his eyes on Hiro's face and really looked at him. It made Tadashi's heart hurt to see the pain in Hiro's features, etched in the subtle furrow of his brow , the trembling in his lip, and the glistening of his eyes and Tadashi begged silently, _please don't cry_ , already mentally preparing himself to comfort Hiro.

After a few more moments, Hiro fell back on his knees and drew himself away from Tadashi, his body language screaming insecurity as he averted his eyes from Tadashi's and bit his lip. "Oh," he said, subconsciously echoing Tadashi's own pathetic words. Tadashi heard and felt the starkness of that word.

"Hiro, you know I don't—we can't do this—" he started, but Hiro let out a painful little whimper that almost knocked Tadashi sideways, he was so unprepared for it. He reached for Hiro's shoulders to pull him close, but Hiro wrenched his way free in one fierce moment that left Tadashi feeling powerless. "Don't touch me," Hiro said in a breathy curse that somehow also sounded on the verge of tears that gave Tadashi pause. He took a deep breath and tried to steel himself against Hiro's vulnerable emotions. It was almost always impossible for him to ignore those feelings in Hiro, but he knew he had to in this situation.

"Hiro, I just don't think you are really _in_ love with me, although I don't doubt that—" Tadashi tried again, but Hiro got off the bed then and gathered up his comforter, shoving a pillow under his arm and trudging down the stairs. It was sudden and unannounced, and Tadashi was left feeling like a fool. He's going to sleep on the couch, Tadashi realized, feeling instantly like the worst brother in the world.

Tadashi sat on his bed and listened to Hiro rustle about downstairs, getting settled. Tadashi stood at the top of the stairs, door ajar as he waited, hoping Hiro would see sense and come back—see that this was ridiculous, and that they didn't have to be apart. He didn't know precisely what to do about this confession, but he didn't want Hiro to isolate himself, although… _You did reject him, genius_ , his mind unhelpfully supplied. He waited for a few more moments, listening for Hiro: all he heard was silence, and then a few minutes later, the sound of Hiro crying, choked off little sounds that Hiro tried to hide from him. But he could never hide he felt from Tadashi, and in that moment it made Tadashi hate himself.

So Tadashi found himself lying in bed, sleep evading him once again. Why did this situation have to be so difficult? Tadashi knew that feelings were complicated things, and you couldn't help how you felt, but he was certain that Hiro had misinterpreted his own feelings. Hiro couldn't be in love with him, and Tadashi had told him that, because it was the right thing to do. Tadashi didn't feel that way towards his brother. At least, he didn't think he felt the same way, but that was part of what made the whole situation so hard on both of them—that nagging feeling in the back of his mind that he was overlooking some important feelings of his own. He scrubbed a hand over his face, feeling a headache coming on.

He couldn't believe he was even considering the possibility that he felt more than brotherly affection for Hiro. He massaged the bridge of his nose, almost just waiting for the conflicting feelings to pass. He knew he and Hiro were close, but they weren't like that—he had watched Hiro grow up from a baby to the teenager he was today, so it was only natural that he look out for him and care for him.

Sure, his friends had teased him endlessly about how much he talked about his brother. They had said he was overprotective, always worrying about what Hiro was getting up to since he had graduated. But that was just what older brothers were supposed to do, wasn't it? Tadashi couldn't help but think that if only his friends had siblings of their own, they would understand why he acted like he did.

But part of him also knew that his relationship with Hiro was unique—you couldn't have both your parents die and not have that change the nature of the relationship forever. Tadashi had felt the pressure to be both Hiro's father and his brother, to protect him at all costs, to look out for him, to see that he got only the best in life. Managing the dual roles had always been a struggle, and although he accepted that that was the way things had to be, he couldn't say he never resented how things turned out.

Whenever he got angry at things, angry at life, he reminded himself of Hiro. When he asked god why his parents had to die, he told himself, _at least I still have Hiro_. Tadashi knew that Hiro felt the same way—that if nothing else in life worked out, at least they had each other.

But was that part of the problem? That if all else failed, they had each other? Tadashi's logical mind knew that there was some unhealthy codependence going on here, but there were hundreds of rationalizations fighting off his uneasy feelings. Hiro's dreams about Tadashi dying... Wouldn't Tadashi react with the same horror, loss, and desperation if he had those dreams about Hiro? He knew he would.

This wasn't helping his situation, so he sat up in bed and threw his legs over the side. He wanted to check on Hiro, to make sure he was okay. _Okay?_ He thought sarcastically. _After what you did to him?_

He shook his head. He still wasn't sure that Hiro really knew what he was feeling—but even so, he knew it probably felt like a rejection. Padding down the stairs, sure to keep quiet so Aunt Cass wouldn't wake up, he made his way to the living room. He saw Hiro huddled on the couch, back facing Tadashi, making his heart clench with unidentifiable emotion. He didn't want his brother to be alone here, or feeling alone even when other people were around. Tadashi had been there and done that for a long time, struggling to make friends after their parents had died—and he never wanted that for Hiro.

He squatted down on his haunches next to Hiro and reached out as if to touch him, but then stopped. What would he say to Hiro if he woke up? What could he say? _Sorry I drove you away, but now I'm back because I don't want to leave you alone?_ Yeah, like that was likely to go over well. Still, the compulsion to touch Hiro, to pull him into his arms and take him upstairs so they can lay together again was almost overwhelming. Still, he knew that Hiro would resent him for it—Hiro had made a decision to be away from him, and as hard as it was for him, Tadashi had to respect that. He hoped that it was only for one night and not for the next several nights, because the former he could take; the latter, maybe not.

Lips pursed, he stood up and looked at his sleeping brother. It was times like this, looking down at him, that Tadashi realized how little he really was. Hiro was still waiting for his growth spurt, and he could lay his entire length on the couch without touching the other end. When Tadashi blinked, he might as well have been looking at a four year old Hiro—not a fourteen year old Hiro.

Sighing deeply, he pulled the comforter up to Hiro's chin and, before he could stop himself, kissed his brother's hair softly. "You knucklehead," he said fondly. "What am I going to do with you?"

Tadashi sighed again and went upstairs, settling into bed uneasily.

Tormented by his mind, he slept restlessly.


	13. Accolades

**A/N:** Hello my friends! He is another little drabble to tide you over, featuring our very own Aunt Cass. Truthfully, I hadn't planned on her making a reappearance in this story, but the reaction was so positive (both here and on AO3) that I decided she deserved a little more story time. I sure am glad that I decided to include her again, because this segment of our stories is one of my favorite thus far. I hope you guys also enjoy it. :)

 **Chapter 13:**

It was almost midnight the next night when Tadashi heard a hesitant knock on the door.

He hoped it was Hiro, but hid his disappointment when Aunt Cass poked her head into the room. He supposed that Hiro was down in the garage, still working on god only knew what project—he had been down there ever since Tadashi had come back from class. Tadashi had hoped they might be able to talk, but clearly Hiro was still upset with him. Tadashi understood why, but it still hurt him.

"Honey?" Aunt Cass asked gently. "Can we talk?"

Tadashi hid his sigh, putting his book down in his lap and nodding. "Sure, come on in."

He was honestly surprised that she was still awake—the late nights and early mornings in the café usually had her in bed soon after closing, barring any strange circumstances leading to her late night stress eating. She was a hard working woman, but she was only human; she needed sleep. He could always tell when things were or weren't going well at the café—it always showed in her face, how drawn she was.

Aunt Cass came over and sat on the bed next to him, hand reaching out to touch his own on the bed. Her face looked long. She didn't bother with any lead-in, "Did you and Hiro get into a fight?"

Tadashi gave a quiet chuckle, but it sounded a little sad, even to himself. "That obvious, huh?"

"Oh, Tadashi," she said fondly, a small smile on your face. She gave his hand a tender squeeze, "Anyone with a couple of brain cells to rub together can tell when you and Hiro are fighting."

"Oh," was all he could say, averting his eyes. He hoped that she hadn't stayed up just to talk to him about this issue. He had created this conflict between he and his brother—he should have to handle it. He never liked to push his problems onto other people although it didn't help that there usually weren't other people for him to push the problem on in any case, but that was irrelevant. He wanted to take the weight off his shoulders but wasn't quite ready to talk about it either. He had no idea what to do. "Sorry for worrying you," he said finally, chewing on his bottom lip. "I know you're busy enough as it is."

"Hey now," she said, lifting his chin so he was forced to look at her. "No getting down on yourself about it," and she gave him a look that said she knew exactly what he was thinking. She seemed to think over her words before she started slowly, her voice suddenly grave, "I know… I know I'll never replace your mom, and I don't ever want to. But you should know by now that it's my job to be here for you," and she paused, seeming a little overwhelmed with emotion. "I'm honored to be here for you."

He could tell she was getting a little choked up, and he was too. "I know," he said, moving so that they sat side by side on the edge of the bed. He wrapped an arm around her and laid his head on her shoulder. The angle was a little awkward, but the physical contact mattered more than that. Her presence kept him grounded when his head was ready to fly off into space, contemplating problems that were far beyond his years. "I'm not very good at this 'asking for help' stuff." His tone was playful but serious.

"Well, I'm not always so good at this 'giving advice' stuff," and Aunt Cass' tone matched his as she pulled away and looked him in the eyes. "But what'dya say? Do you want to talk about it?"

And did he ever—especially after what Aunt Cass had said. His fight, disagreement, misunderstanding, whatever you wanted to call it—with his brother had been eating him up all day. It was surprisingly distracting, especially because he had so many things that he needed to get done. He knew he would feel better if he talked to her, shared from the heart, but… What would change if Aunt Cass knew about this situation? If Aunt Cass knew that Hiro had confessed that he was in love with him? He didn't know why the thought of Aunt Cass knowing troubled him so, but it unsettled him to his very core. It wasn't his story to tell—if Hiro wanted their aunt to know what was going on, he would have told her himself, right? But Hiro was also fourteen and avoidant of emotions, so maybe he wouldn't. Tadashi chewed his lip before finally asking, "Has Hiro said anything to you about this?"

Aunt Cass gave a whistling little laugh. "You bet I've tried to pry it out of him, turned to straight up bribery—but he hasn't said anything," and the joy went out of her face. "He seems very gloomy though, so I wanted to see if you knew what the cause of all this was."

Tadashi felt a nervous shudder go through him and Aunt Cass' brows furrowed in concern. "Are you alright?" and he was almost overcome with how wonderful she was, juggling the problems of her two nephews, as if she didn't have thousands of her own responsibilities already.

"Y-Yeah," he said, giving her a shaky smile that might have looked more like a grimace. He couldn't help it, because all he could think was that this was all his fault. Hiro wouldn't be in such a state if… if what? Tadashi couldn't say yet whether he returned Hiro's feelings—and where had that come from? Yesterday the matter had been one of flat out rejection, but now… Was he reconsidering?

Now he really did feel sick, and Aunt Cass could see it all over his face if her growing concern was anything to go by. "Tadashi? Are you alright? Do you need some water? The trash? Are you going to throw up?" She started to get up, but he reached for her and kept her seated.

"It's okay," he said, swallowing thickly. "I'm fine, I just… am overthinking things," and it wasn't a lie. "Aunt Cass, I really appreciate what you're trying to do," and he meant it. "I would tell if I could, but I think Hiro should be the one to tell you about this, if he decides he wants to." _I can't tell you he's in love with me,_ he thought. _No matter how unprepared I am to deal with this myself._ "But otherwise, I think Hiro and I might have to figure this one out ourselves," and he could see a flicker of sadness in her eyes.

Aunt Cass bit her lip but nodded. She looked like a child who had been reprimanded, and Tadashi's heart swelled again. "Is there anything I can—"

Her voice trailed off as Tadashi wrapped her up in a tight hug, pulling her close. He was so glad that she was there because he would have never turned out alright without her. While he often felt like he could take responsibility for raising Hiro, Aunt Cass raised the both of them, Hiro for the better part of his life. He felt her tentatively wrap her arms around him in return, obviously surprised but touched by his gesture, and he gave her squeeze because he hadn't thought of the right thing to say yet.

When he finally spoke, the words felt natural. It was time to say them—"Mom would have been so proud of you, Aunt Cass," and he could feel her start to tremble in his arms. "You've done so well."

Aunt Cass held him tighter then, and they stayed like that for a long time as the feelings washed over both of them. Even though Tadashi hadn't confessed what was going on with him and Hiro, he still felt lighter after this new confession. Aunt Cass was right; she would never replace their mom—but she had earned accolades all her own, not passed on simply because she was the hastily chosen under-study.

When Aunt Cass pulled away, her eyes were misty. "Oh, Tadashi," she said, giving him a watery smile. "She would have been so proud of you and the man you've become."

His lip quivered too, and there they were, quite the picture, two people, both thrown into roles had never asked for, sharing wobbly smiles and heartfelt words. He nodded after a moment, if not a little bit stiffly, at her words. "Eleven years doesn't make it any easier," he whispered.

"I know," she said, gathering him up in her arms again, pulling him to her breast. Tadashi gave a shaky sigh and accepted the comfort and felt a few tears squeeze their way out, and he could hear Aunt Cass taking lots of deep breaths, trying—most likely unsuccessfully—to hold in her own tears.

They pulled apart after another long while, both wiping their eyes. "Thanks, Aunt Cass."

She nodded and sniffled, touching his cheek fondly. "You boys are too good to me," and Tadashi felt like the exact opposite was actually the case. She was too good to them.

"Thanks for coming to talk to me," he said after a moment.

"Yes, well," she said, straightening nonexistent wrinkles from her clothes. "I don't know how much I helped with that, but I know you boys will work it out somehow. You always do."

And Tadashi really wanted to believe her—he wanted it with all his heart.


	14. Intensity

**A/N:** Sorry for the delay in this chapter guys—this week has been absolutely insane, the toughest week of work yet. Even though I had finished this drabble a while ago, I wanted to sit on it and make sure I could look at it with fresh eyes. It is honestly one of my favorite parts of the story thus far because it really ramps up the emotions that our boys experience—we go from this late night, quiet kind of love, to a fiercer kind of love that is more powerful and scarier as a result. We'll be dealing with the aftermath of these events for a significant number of drabbles to come, but I think to do any less than that would to do an injustice to both Tadashi's and Hiro's feelings, and the process of coming to accept them.

I hope you enjoy!

 **Chapter 14:**

The next night, Tadashi was in his room, reading a book when his Aunt knocked on the door, tentatively sticking her head in. He was surprised to have a repeat of the night before so soon after their heartfelt talk. Aunt Cass asked a simple question: "Tadashi, have you seen Hiro?"

His heart jolted a little bit at the question, but he asked evenly, "He's not in the garage?"

"No, I thought he was up here with you," she explained, her brow beginning to furrow in concern. He could already imagine what she was starting to think, and only partially because that was exactly what he was starting to think. The protective instinct that both he and his aunt had for Hiro was insuppressible.

Tadashi spoke quickly to stop her thoughts from spiraling out of control. "Oh, he's probably just helping Honey Lemon with her project for school. I think I remember him saying something about that," and it was a flat out lie that nonetheless smoothed out the worry lines on Aunt Cass' face. He thought that alleviating her concern was worth the lie. "I think I'll head over there to check it out, if that's okay?"

He phrased it like a question, but there was no doubt that he would be going. He knew he could win Aunt Cass over with a sweet tone, even though she would normally not let him out this late. He didn't like manipulating her, especially after the genuine talk they'd had the night before, but desperate times called for desperate measures. She surveyed his expression for a moment before conceding, "Sure, I know how you kids can be when it comes to the call of science," and her tone was light as she left.

He cursed under his breath as he changed into decent clothes and grabbed his helmet on his way out the door, annoyed at himself and his brother for the situation they were now both in. Tadashi was more thankful than ever that he hadn't removed the trackers from Hiro's hoodies. Hiro was bot fighting—Tadashi had really thought they were done having arguments about that. Part of him blamed Hiro for making such a knuckleheaded decision, but part of him blamed himself for most likely being the thing that drove Hiro to return to bot fighting in the first place. Aside from the fact that bot fighting was still illegal, the stakes were even higher now. Hiro would likely be expelled if he was discovered.

Tadashi just wanted to make sure Hiro was safe—that was the most important thing to him—so why did Hiro have to make it so hard? His thoughts were swirling in an endless, unhelpful loop as he followed the GPS on his phone to the location of the bot fight; not very far away, but not in a nice part of town, either. The joint was a crooked looking building whose roof seemed to bend under the heavy load of worn shingles, and Tadashi felt a chill creep up his spine as he maneuvered his way around the crowd that had formed to watch the bot fight. He headed to the front row preparing himself for the worst.

He saw Hiro, sitting cross-legged on one end of the ring, facing up against a hulking man with frighteningly large muscles, although Hiro looked unfazed—probably because he knew without question that his bot would win. The absolute certainty with which Hiro carried himself made Tadashi sigh. It was that very same cockiness that so often got Hiro into trouble, although his brother never understood that.

Tadashi didn't call out to him, didn't say anything, but stood directly in Hiro's line of sight, his arms crossed and lips pursed in a tight line. He must have been giving off some pretty bad vibes, because he noticed out of the corner of his eye that a few people moved away from him. Good—he hoped that his brother felt those very same vibes whenever he spotted him. He wanted Hiro to know he meant business.

The fight began and was over fairly quickly—but not with the outcome Hiro had anticipated. Mid-fight, Tadashi's eyes had met Hiro's, and he saw a tremor run through Hiro's body, face going slack. His opponent took advantage of the lapse in concentration, quickly dispatching his best resources until Megabot was in pieces on the ground. Hiro's eyes flashed back to the ring and then angrily at Tadashi.

The crowd erupted in laughter and jeers at the easily won match, many crowd members yelling taunts at Hiro. "Go home, kid!" someone behind Tadashi shouted, and Tadashi took that as his cue.

Marching over to Hiro, he allowed his brother to collect Megabot's scattered pieces before grabbing his arm in a tight grip, one that he wouldn't be able to break away from easily. Tadashi didn't like to use his strength against Hiro, but he couldn't let him risk his safety with a rematch. They'd been through this before, and Tadashi was not prepared to face down any thugs. People were saying awful things about the two of them as they made their way through the crowd, and Tadashi fixed anyone who made eye contact with him a punishing glare. He hated these awful places—hated these awful people. When they were finally outside, Tadashi loosened his grip and Hiro wrenched his arm free.

Tadashi was angry, angrier than he had been at Hiro in a long time, although it wasn't just anger contributing to his firestorm of emotions—there was worry, guilt, and more—feeding into the mess, too. He pushed the spare helmet into Hiro's hands and sped away, so upset he didn't think he could manage words even if he knew what to say. There was a knot of tension in his stomach getting tighter and tighter with each second. Hiro was silent, his grip was firm on Tadashi's shoulders to avoid falling off.

He stopped a ways away from the café, turning off the engine and climbing off the bike. He didn't want to have this talk with Hiro at home, where Hiro would just walk away from him, holing himself up in the garage again. They needed to talk this through, although he knew now really wasn't the best time. He was practically bursting with emotional energy as he paced back and forth in the alleyway they had parked in front of, and he could tell that Hiro was equally wound up by the situation.

Hiro was undoubtedly still mad at him, but had to ask, "Why did we stop here?"

Hearing Hiro's voice brought some of Tadashi's emotions to the surface. His mind was going a thousand miles a minute when he asked, "What were you thinking?" more loudly than he had meant to, although he wasn't sorry. Tadashi really thought that he had a right to be angry in this situation.

Hiro flinched a little but glared, climbing off the bike himself. His gaze was intense as he practically cursed the words at Tadashi, "You didn't have to come for me, I didn't need you to come for me." Hiro stiffened a little before finally spatting, "I didn't _want_ you to come for me."

He groaned in frustration, but his voice didn't waver as he repeated, " _What_ were you _thinking_?"

"Look, what's it to you what I do?" Hiro asked angrily, crossing his arms and turning away from him, body posture defensive and dismissive—that made Tadashi's heart hurt. They were both more fired up than ever before, Tadashi with worry and Hiro with rejection. Tadashi knew that there was no way Hiro had forgotten those feelings of hurt so soon, and knew that was part of why Hiro was acting like this. He had put Hiro in this awful place and abandoned him to deal with the emotions alone. First heartbreak was never easy, and Tadashi knew that. But how could he help when he had caused this problem?

"When we get home, you are taking these damn trackers out of my hoodies—I am sick of you coming after me like I'm some lost pet!"

He was only a little surprised to find out that Hiro knew about the trackers, because after all, his brother was a genius—it wouldn't be hard to guess why Tadashi was always able to find him, no matter where he was in the city. All Tadashi said was, "What am I supposed to do when you wander off stupidly into danger? We've been over this Hiro, I thought you were done with bot-fighting!"

Hiro turned on him then, walking towards him with a finger outstretched. He spoke quietly, but his words were backed with powerful emotions. His voice quivered with the intensity of what he was saying, and it made Tadashi shiver. "You don't get to decide when you do and don't care about me. I deserve better than that, and you know it!" A little bit more shakily, "I _told_ you how I _felt_."

Tadashi opened and closed his mouth a few times before scrubbing a hand over his face hard. What was he even supposed to say to that? It made his insides clench to have the contradiction between his words and his actions pointed out, but what could he do? He spoke honestly, voice a little softer, a little less angry, "Hiro, you know that I always want you safe. You know how much I care about you—"

"That's not what you said before! I can't believe you!" There was a different emotion in Hiro's voice then and it sounded like true hurt, deep sadness, his voice growing softer with every syllable, words breathed out in disbelief. Hiro made the same motion Tadashi just had, rubbing his hand over his face, his head shaking. "I'm not going to put up with this," he said quietly, walking away from Tadashi.

"Don't you ignore me, Hiro! It is my job to protect you!" Tadashi said, and it wasn't the first time he had felt the very real weight of this responsibility. The stress made his voice rise again. "Don't you know what it _does_ to me when you go running off like this?" He was steadily walking closer and closer to Hiro as he spoke, "Don't you know what I start thinking? Where are you, are you hurt? What kind of unsavory characters are you with? Do you know how scared I feel when I think, what if I can't get to you in time?" His voice had a panicked sound to it that made Hiro flinch. Now Tadashi's voice wavered, "I would be lost without you, Hiro! My life would be meaningless!"

There, he had said it. Tadashi hadn't known that those were the words that were going to come out of his mouth, but there they were, and they felt unbearably true in an uncomfortable, wearing his heart on his sleeve way. He was breathing hard with all that had gone into the simple statement, but it _wasn't_ really so simple, was it? Tadashi's heart and mind were going a thousand miles per minute. What was he saying? He knew he meant what he said, but was that what brothers said? _Would my life be meaningless?_

Hiro's tone was quiet, but undoubtedly hurt himself. His eyes met Tadashi's for the briefest of moments, and something stirred inside him at that look, a feeling that only grew with Hiro's words: "Don't you know what it does to _me_ when you say stuff like _that_?"

Tadashi felt like his body was moving of its own accord as he surged forward and grabbed Hiro by the shoulders, pulling their bodies flush against one another, hand cupping the back of Hiro's head a little too forcefully, crowding Hiro against the wall. He smashed their lips together, the kiss all feeling and no grace, hard enough to be bruising and heated enough in its intentions, if not its duration, to leave them panting and out of breath. He could sense Hiro's nervousness by how stiffly he stood against him.

"Yes," Tadashi said, breath mingling with Hiro's as he pulled away. "I know."


	15. Shame

**A/N:** Hello everyone, and sorry for the delay! It has been a long week and I have been trying my best to recover from the stress of school. The stress made me not feel the writing vibe like I had been feeling in the past—but I think I'm in a better place now. I'm also going to try and get back into working and adding length to this story more consistently, something that has fallen back a little. That way, you guys can have more consistent updates.

Anyway, onto this chapter! I won't spoil to much—I want you guys to experience it without too much conjecture on my part—but know that I tried to really convey Tadashi's conflict, in both the words I chose and also in the style of writing. I hope that it reflects the sense of directionless urgency I wanted.

(Also, the written, but not all yet posted, story now totals 50 pages. Wow, so much for a short little story told in short little drabbles! This "drabble" is also the longest so far… Over 4 pages for just this scene.)

 **Chapter 15:**

Hiro gaped up at him, jaw slack and eyes wide, staring at him in silence. For a long time, they didn't say anything, breathing each other's air, foreheads pressed together. Tadashi closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths, trying to reel in his rampant feelings and make sense of what had happened. It was as though a fog had settled over his brain, the haze of emotion making it impossible to think clearly.

"Ta—Tadashi…" Hiro stuttered after a long moment still breathing heavily.

Hearing his brother's voice brought Tadashi back to reality and made him feel like his heart had stopped. The haze cleared immediately and was replaced with panicked thoughts. _What was he doing? What had he been thinking? Why had he done this to Hiro?_ With a sharp intake of breath, he backed up from where he had cornered his brother in, feeling a little sick to his stomach. Hiro was still looking at him with those big, innocent eyes that seared Tadashi to his very core, but Hiro snapped out of it and grabbed his shirt, fists clenching tight swaths of the fabric in his hands, keeping him close.

"Please, don't freak out," Hiro said in a desperate whisper. "It's okay."

But Tadashi felt very not-okay then, so much so that all he could do for a moment was shake his head no. What had he been thinking, kissing—oh god, kissing—his brother like that! And after Hiro had confessed his feelings, and Tadashi had rejected him. He hadn't kissed Hiro because he was in love with him, but rather because he had wanted so desperately for him to know how much he cared about him, because he needed to know that Hiro was safe and real and _there_ , undeniably _there_. But he doubted if Hiro knew what his true intentions were—how could he know those most innermost thoughts?

Eventually he was able to muster a few pathetic words, a meek, "Let's just go home."

Hiro's eyes were searching his frantically, but Tadashi couldn't look him in the eye. He knew that it hurt Hiro, but he kept his eyes resolutely away from Hiro's and pulled back as his thoughts entered a tailspin of different feelings. Why had he kissed Hiro? He had rejected him before, and rightfully so. Although Hiro's depression had caused its fair share of second thoughts, fears about how their relationship would suffer from Tadashi's rejection, Tadashi didn't think that he was in love with Hiro.

Tadashi felt Hiro's hands fall away and made his way back to the bike. Climbing on, he numbly went through the motions of making sure that Hiro had his helmet on and starting the bike before driving the rest of the trip back to the café. Although it could have been the late night chill, he thought he felt Hiro's tears on his back where the side of Hiro's face was pressed into his shirt. The tears were warm against his back, but it made him shiver nonetheless. What was he going to do? Why had he kissed Hiro?

 _This would have never happened if mom and dad were here,_ he thought darkly, feeling so sick and hateful towards himself for what he had done. He had really ruined this—and he was lucky that he didn't immediately crash the bike, given the direction of his thoughts. _Stupid, stupid, stupid,_ he cursed himself. _Mom and dad would be so ashamed to have you as a son, to know what you've done and thought on this night, if only they knew what you thought of your own brother, they brother they trusted you to raise on your own._ He must have tensed at the thought, because Hiro looked up to see what was wrong—

But nothing was wrong, except Tadashi's world felt like it was falling apart.

When they got back to the café, the two brothers walked up to their room in silence. Hiro made a beeline for the bathroom, the door clicking resolutely behind him. Tadashi sighed deeply and sat on the edge of his bed, resting his elbows on his knees and folding his hands over the back of his neck, trying to take deep, calming breaths. His heart was beating rapidly in his chest, its staccato rhythm jarring him. He simultaneously wondered why he was so freaked out by this and wondered at how he could even wonder—as if kissing his brother could ever be considered acceptable. _Mom and dad would be so ashamed to have you for a son—how did you manage to ruin things this much?_ It was like a mantra in his mind, unforgiving and cold, chilling him to the bone and making it impossible to calm down.

That was how Hiro found him a few minutes later, head having sunk to between his knees, still taking those same deep breaths, although they weren't working very well. Tadashi sensed his watchful eyes and heard, almost as if from far away, the creak of the floor as Hiro grew near.

Hiro gripped his biceps in a gentle, but firm hold that served to stabilize him. "Tadashi," Hiro started, thumbs stroking his arms in a soothing motion. His tone of voice sounded like he was talking to a trapped, panicked animal, which Tadashi realized was more accurate than he would like to admit.

Hiro murmured fervently, "It's going to be okay. You are going to be okay."

Tadashi felt a shudder run through his body at the motion and felt Hiro's touch falter, ready to pull away, but Tadashi needed him. That was the worst part of all of this! Even with his mantra— _mom and dad would be so ashamed to have you for a son_ —he still needed Hiro, because without Hiro, he was nothing. His words from earlier in the night, my life would be meaningless without you, returned and made him shudder. The terribleness of it all, the cruel irony that fate was forcing him to see, didn't change the fact that he needed Hiro. He sat up, placing his hand over Hiro's on his arm, conflict burning him up from the inside out. He wanted Hiro to go but he needed Hiro to stay, or else he might fall apart entirely. He wish he knew how to tell Hiro exactly how he felt, but the traitorous words wouldn't come.

Hiro seemed to understand somehow—Tadashi didn't know how, but he did seem to understand. Hiro came up onto the bed and sat behind him, legs spreading out on either side of him, and wrapped his arms around Tadashi's stomach, hands splaying across his stomach. Tadashi felt Hiro place his head against his back and felt his breath—in and out—steady, easy. Tadashi tried to match their breaths, knowing that he needed to calm down. It was no different than what he had been trying to do alone, but it was so much easier to do it with Hiro by his side. Soon he wasn't taking those heavy, verging on panic breaths, but breathing normally. He felt ashamed at his weakness, but also incredibly grateful and placed his hands over Hiro's again, intertwining their fingers and squeezing.

He hoped that this somehow told Hiro all he wanted to but wasn't ready to say.

They stayed like that for a long time, until Tadashi was sure that Hiro's legs and arms must be growing stiff and uncomfortable. Tadashi straightened up and felt Hiro do the same behind him. He wiggled his way out of Hiro's grasp and turned around to face him, feeling overcome with emotions—anxiety, embarrassment, confusion, anger—at himself, because he wished he knew what he really wanted from Hiro, and feared that what he really wanted was too terrible to ever ask of Hiro. It wasn't clear to him, but he felt a sense of dread come over him, like the truth was buried somewhere deep within and it was only a matter of time until the truth came out. Tadashi was terrified about that truth.

And above all else, it wasn't fair of him to lead Hiro through the mire of his feelings.

Tadashi's hand came up and rested on Hiro's cheek, thumb stroking his cheekbone softly. He felt Hiro lean into the touch, letting out a breath and felt a wave of fondness roll over him. What had he done to deserve Hiro? Even with the bot-fighting and general mischief, or maybe because of it, he could not imagine spending his life with anyone else by his side, and the realization made him shudder.

"You deserve a better brother than me," he told Hiro in a whisper.

"Impossible," Hiro replied, not missing a beat.

The feeling of fondness only grew, so strong that Tadashi felt something clench inside him. He couldn't help but pull Hiro close to him then, arms fully enveloping his brother in a firm grip. Tadashi could feel Hiro hold his breath for a moment before letting it out slowly, wrapping his arms around him in return. The two of them stayed like that for a long time, Tadashi turning over hundreds of thoughts in his mind and Hiro likely doing the same. He wished he could just give his brother what he wanted, but…

"I'm sorry," Tadashi spoke honestly, "I just don't know what to think… to do… right now."

Hiro nodded and looked up at him, eyes devoid of any anger or frustration. It was a tender look that made Tadashi feel wanted and loved, in whatever way Hiro meant it. "Please, Tadashi," Hiro all but begged, "If you don't know what to do…" Hiro paused, "Let me take care of you." Hiro's eyes searched his own for permission—and Tadashi granted it, nodding. "Let's get ready for bed then, huh?"

Tadashi nodded again, feeling a little fragile as he got up from the bed and went through the motions of changing. His mind was a million miles away, not really thinking any thoughts in particular anymore, but bogged down with a more deep-seeded, more troubling, generalized anxiety. It must have shown on his face, because when Tadashi faced Hiro again, waiting for him, Hiro only frowned.

Hiro climbed in Tadashi's bed first, pulling back the covers for Tadashi and offering him a hand. Hiro pulled Tadashi down next to him, hand coming to cup the side of Tadashi's head, fingers stroking the short hairs at his temple, touch so light that Tadashi thought he might have imagined it. They laid in bed, the low light of Tadashi's lamp casting a soft glow over them, Tadashi looking at Hiro with unfocused eyes and Hiro watching him with intent ones, eyes glittering. His hand never stopped its comforting movement. It made Tadashi feel cherished and important, like he mattered, and he swallowed a lump in his throat, eyes fluttering shut. He didn't know why he felt tears spring to his eyes just then, but he silently willed them away, waiting until he could look at Hiro without any traitorous tears escaping.

Tadashi knew he must have been giving off a lot of raw emotion just then, because Hiro still didn't look satisfied. His hand moved from its spot on the side of Tadashi's face and traced the furrow of his brow, caressing under his eye before moving down his face to his lips, passing a quick thumb over them before repeating the motion on the other side. With each pass over his brow bone and under his eyes, he felt the tension drain out of him, like Hiro was lifting away the weight that had settled there.

Tadashi looked his brother, a little wide eyed. The role reversal that had occurred this night was not lost on Tadashi. He could recognize that what Hiro was doing for him now was exactly what he had done for Hiro on multiple occasions—and it made feel Tadashi feel small and strange, even though he knew this was part of the beauty of their relationship. This would never work if he just gave endlessly of himself to Hiro, to protect him. Hiro also gave of himself, freely and easily, to Tadashi, to protect him.

The lump in Tadashi's throat was back.

"Hey," Hiro nudged, thumbs stroking under his eyes. "You with me?"

Tadashi nodded, blinked fiercely, and rasped out a hoarse, "Yeah, I'm with you."

Tadashi met Hiro's eyes and tried not to get lost in them. "Okay?" Hiro asked.

Tadashi nodded.

And that was all it took—they both let out a deep breath before Tadashi turned around and shut off the light. There were still many conversations to be had about the events of the night—Tadashi knew he would have to talk to Hiro about his bot-fighting, and even harder, his feelings—but that could come later, after a good night's rest. Before Hiro could turn around and assume their regular night time position, Tadashi slipped his arms around Hiro and pulled him close, tucking his head under his chin and feeling his breath on his neck. He needed Hiro facing him, so he knew that Hiro was really there, really safe. He pressed a gentle kiss to the top of Hiro's head, feeling relief and anxiety intertwine in his gut. Hiro was undoubtedly a little tense, and it took a while for his brother to relax again.

Tadashi didn't know why he had gone that extra step, but he felt like it was important. He thought it might be a way to tell Hiro what he was thinking without having to say the words—an _I'm not ready yet_ —expressed in action. "Tadashi?" Hiro asked uncertainly, still not moving.

"Okay?" Tadashi asked, and they switched roles again, Tadashi providing the comfort.

"Okay," Hiro whispered, relaxing into his arms.

Tadashi closed his eyes but didn't sleep. _Mom and dad would be so ashamed to have you for a son._


	16. Lead

**A/N:** Hello again everyone! I'm sorry to keep you all in such suspense after the end of the last chapter, but I was just so busy this week that I didn't have a chance to look this next chapter over until tonight.

I am trying something new—that is, prioritizing my sleep—for probably the first time in my life. What does that mean for this story? It means that a lot of the late-night time I had dedicated to updating this story has been cut short as I try to get a full eight hours of sleep per night, rather than four or five. I just really need the sleep these days to deal with the stress of school.

However, fret not—this story will absolutely continue on until it is completed. I have invested too much into it to let it die, and I know that you guys are all waiting what happens next.

So without further ado, here is the latest chapter of Night Changes!

 **Chapter 16:**

When Tadashi came home from lab the next night, he found Hiro sitting at his desk, staring at nothing in particular. Entering the room, he tried to smile at his younger brother, but found it fell flat when faced at the somberness in Hiro's eyes. He couldn't help but just look at Hiro, drink him in, for a moment or two longer. How he looked at his brother was in the process of changing forever, and it scared him—made his very core tremble with doubt. Dropping his bag to the floor, he asked, "Hey, what's up?"

What's up? He mentally snorted at himself—he knew what was up. He knew Hiro wanted to talk about what had happened the night before, how Tadashi had acted and what he had… what he had done—why he had kissed him. Tadashi knew this conversation would come, but he had hoped that he would be the one to initiate it so that he could have a little more time to think about what he could and would say. The fact that Hiro had initiated this conversation made Tadashi chew on his lip. It meant that his brother was really serious about everything, and Tadashi knew it was hard to fight Hiro whenever he was serious about something. His brother's will and determination were not something to be trifled with.

"Hey," Hiro said softly, eyes never leaving his. "I wanted to, um, talk, about… well, you know."

"Yeah," Tadashi said, coming over to sit on the edge of Hiro's bed. He wanted this talk to be in Hiro's space, on Hiro's terms, because even if he wasn't ready for this conversation, Hiro still deserved to lead it. Although he was trembling inside, he wouldn't usurp the power. He needed to know what Hiro really thought about all this, so that Tadashi could decide what he should think about it. He sat on Hiro's bed, knot forming in his stomach, and waited for Hiro to say something. It felt like an eternity.

Hiro rolled his desk chair over to the bed, but didn't sit next to Tadashi. They were facing each other, Tadashi slouched on the bed and Hiro slouched in his chair, and Tadashi felt the distance profoundly. He wished Hiro would sit next to him—he didn't like the thought of anything being between them, emotionally or physically, but he didn't say anything, didn't suggest that Hiro should move, because he would respect Hiro's power, his right to lead this conversation. After what he had done, he deserved to be uncomfortable, to feel exposed and unprotected. He deserved whatever was coming.

There was another beat of silence, and then Hiro got right to it, "Why did you kiss me?"

Tadashi took in a deep breath. Why had he kissed Hiro? He had been asking himself this very same question all day, turning it over in his mind even as he was reading for class and working on his projects. His friends had noticed again—they knew that the brothers' earlier disagreement hadn't been resolved, they gave him concerned looks all day—but also gave him his space, letting him work out the problem on his own. He thought that on some level, they could tell that whatever was going on with him and Hiro, they would have to solve it on their own, just like he had told Aunt Cass.

He would have given anything that day to have someone else to talk to about it, but the funny thing was that when these sorts of problems arose, he would usually talk to Hiro. It wasn't often that he had love-troubles, so he hadn't confided in Hiro about that but anything else was on the table. Even if Hiro didn't always understand the finer points of the situation, he always knew what to say to make Tadashi feel better about it all. Now, Hiro was the one raising these finer points up for discussion.

He had tried looking at it from multiple angles, like he always told Hiro to do, but there was a mental block in front of many of these angles, obscuring his view of the situation. Part of him still saw Hiro as his little brother, perpetually three years old and dealing with their parents' death in a hazy, childlike way. Another part of him was being forced to consider that that was no longer the case—that Hiro was growing up and in a lot of ways, more balanced than he was, at least when it came to their family. Maybe Tadashi had gone wrong somewhere, making Hiro the center of his world, but it had felt so right at the time. He had needed someone, and Hiro had always been there.

Tadashi shook himself out of his thoughts. His parents had always taught him to be honest, so he was: "I don't really know why I did it, Hiro," he said gently. "I just… felt like I had to, right then."

Hiro's brows furrowed, clearly dissatisfied by his answer. His voice was almost a whisper as he repeated his question, searching Tadashi's eyes, "But why did you… feel that way, like you had to?"

Tadashi knew that Hiro would ask for more. He hadn't been dreading this conversation because it could be resolved in a matter of seconds. As he started talking, he found the words came a little easier to him, if not a bit in a jumble. "I just thought—coming out from that bot fight, those people… I don't know how you're not scared of them," and he was being honest. "They scream danger, and Hiro… I know you are more capable than most 14 year olds," he looked Hiro in the eyes, not wanting him to be offended, "But you scream prey—and I was so scared for you, and when I—I… When I…"

Here the words got stuck for a moment. "When I kissed you, it because I wanted you to know how… How I felt. About you, and about everything."

He said the words carefully, almost too carefully. Tadashi knew he was talking around his feelings, but he didn't know how to describe how he felt to Hiro when he wasn't even sure himself. He averted his eyes, feeling like he had laid himself bare, but then remembered that he was letting Hiro lead this conversation and knew he had to look at him. He met Hiro's eyes and trembled again.

"What do you mean, 'how you felt'?" Hiro echoed his earlier thoughts.

Tadashi ran a hand haphazardly through his hair, feeling like the weight of this situation, of his feelings, of Hiro's feelings, was crushing him. "I—I don't even know what I mean, Hiro, I swear," and he let out a shaky breath and an even shakier laugh, folding over until his elbows were on his knees, his head down. This was so difficult to talk about—he felt like his whole world was crashing down around him.

How had Hiro come to his feelings so easily? Hiro of course knew the taboo surrounding his romantic feelings, but he always seemed so confident, so sure about how he felt. He had his moments of embarrassment, fleeting fear that drove his feelings back, but at the end of the day, Tadashi could sense Hiro's love for him as if it was radiating off him in waves. Tadashi found that to be both inspiring and unbelievable, that Hiro could follow his heart while maintaining such indifference to how he might be judged by those he loved—and judged by Tadashi, too. Understanding Hiro's love for him was harder.

"Hey," Hiro said, scooting the chair closer. Tadashi saw his legs come into view as he approached, and let out another uneasy breath. Hiro's legs were on either side of his, and Hiro lifted his chin to look at him. He hadn't even realized that he had looked away again, and bit his lip. Hiro spoke gently "I know this isn't easy for you, and I respect that, but… You know, I'm just so confused by you."

It wasn't eloquent, but Tadashi knew exactly what he meant. "That makes two of us," he couldn't help but joke. But the joke died quickly and Tadashi found himself rambling again, "Hiro, when it's dark out… when it's just the two of us, I don't know, it's so—so easy for me to be close to you," and the words hung in the air while he thought of what to say next. He knew Hiro was hanging onto his every word. "But when you said, um, when you told me how you—how you felt, I just don't really know… I got scared again, I couldn't really tell you why. I mean, Hiro, you're my brother, that will never change."

Hiro flinched a little at the words and made a move to back up, clearly feeling vulnerable and uncomfortable, but Tadashi placed a firm hand on his knee to stop him. He wanted Hiro to lead this conversation, but he didn't want him to run away. "Hey, I'm… I'm not done, okay?" Tadashi asked. Hiro nodded but didn't look at him, and Tadashi accepted that. Tadashi's voice was every bit as gentle as Hiro's had been, "I think if I know how you're feeling, it'll be easier to figure out how I'm feeling."

Hiro looked up at him through dark lashes, flushing deeply. "I already told you how I felt."

"I know, I know," he said quickly, not wanting Hiro to feel backed into a corner. This was already hard enough without Tadashi making it worse. "I just mean, well, you seem to have a good grip on… You seem to really know how you feel, and I just wonder…" He sighed, not really sure how to ask his question without sounding judgmental. "How did you get so comfortable with this idea?"

Hiro cringed, expression turning intense and eyes dark. "Well, it wasn't like it was easy," he said a little defensively. "I didn't, I mean," Hiro fumbled with his words, blush growing with every passing moment. He crossed his arms over his chest but he just looked insecure, like he was shrinking in on himself. "I didn't just wake up and say, 'Oh, great news! I'm in love with… with my brother," and Hiro seemed to deflate at this. Tadashi could hear Hiro's breath getting louder, a little panicked. Maybe Tadashi had misjudged him—maybe Hiro was still struggling with his feelings, and Tadashi hadn't noticed because he was wrapped up in his own doubts. He felt a deep sense of regret.

He wanted to reach out and comfort his brother, but everything was just too fresh in his mind—Hiro's confession, the bot-fight, the kiss, Hiro, Hiro, Hiro. It was amazing how his brother could sometimes be so small and meek, and other times have so much presence it nearly overwhelmed him.

Hiro was still looking at him through lidded eyes under furrowed brows, his expression intense, searching Tadashi's face. Hiro worried his lip and looked away, and Tadashi watched his jaw clench and unclench in profile. Hiro didn't make eye contact with him as he said, "I'm sorry if I messed this all up."

"What? Hiro, no," Tadashi said quickly, surprised and a little alarmed at the shift in Hiro's thoughts. Everything was still so fresh, he couldn't help but reach out to him and touch Hiro's hand where it rested against his arm, still in that insecure arms-crossed position. It was instinct, not real thought, that lead him to comfort his brother. He knew that if he had been thinking straight, he would have made a different choice—he had made a different choice, just moments ago, before Hiro pulled him back in.

Tadashi's words came out in a rush of breath, "You didn't mess anything up, never apologize for what you feel—you can't help that kind of stuff," and at this Hiro turned to look at him again, myriad of emotions on his face, conflict clearly brewing as he sat like stone. His jaw clenched, then unclenched.

"Hiro, please," although Tadashi didn't know what he was really asking. Maybe he was asking Hiro to forgive himself for his feelings, and to forgive Tadashi for not knowing his feelings at all—it was so hard to make sense of this entire situation.

Tadashi could practically see Hiro emotionally pulling away from him, eyes growing more and more distanced with each moment, his conflict hidden behind a dark veil in his eyes. Hiro used his heels to push back his chair and out of Tadashi's reach. Tadashi's hand felt cold without Hiro's warm skin underneath it, and he felt bereft. Hiro spoke shakily, "I don't want to lose you, Tadashi," whispering, "But I can't… go through—it's just too—" he stopped himself mid-sentence, standing up.

Tadashi watched as Hiro fled down the stairs, his feet pounding against the solid wood. Tadashi stared after him, feeling lost.


	17. Panic

A/N: I hope everyone had a nice Thanksgiving! After much waiting, here is the next chapter! We see a little bit more of where the boys are each at with their feelings, especially the struggle that Hiro is having—although we see it though Tadashi's eyes, for what it's worth. This was definitely one of those times in the story where I was tempted to break tradition and show things from Hiro's side—I wasn't sure if this scene had the impact I wanted when we couldn't know Hiro's deepest thoughts—but I thought it best to stick with Tadashi's perspective. Its biases and misconceptions are, in their own way, revealing in their own right.

 **Chapter 17:**

Tadashi must have sat in the same position like that for at least another twenty minutes before he stopped feeling sorry for himself. He was so confused—by himself and by Hiro alike, and the confusion was truly paralyzing. He didn't know why Hiro ran away, not really—although he sensed that his brother was probably just so overwhelmed by the situation, he had to get away. It wasn't the first time that Tadashi was reminded that Hiro was still only fourteen, and had dealt with and was still dealing with some incredibly difficult situations and emotions. _And I'm not helping him one bit_ , he scolded himself.

He had been wrong to assume that Hiro had come to terms with his feelings; wrong to assume that it had been easy for him. Tadashi didn't know how long this had been going on for—how long—he swallowed—Hiro had been in love with him. He still had so many questions to ask his brother.

While obviously hadn't come to a conclusion about any of this in the last twenty minutes, he couldn't let Hiro isolate himself on account of his feelings. Even if Tadashi didn't know exactly how he felt about Hiro, he knew wasn't disgusted by his love and affection. There was no need for Hiro to quarantine himself into misery. It was Tadashi's job to take care of Hiro, and that's what he would do now, even though they were both a mess and could hardly help themselves.

Heading down the stairs, he figured that Hiro had probably gone to the garage to brood over the situation while working on one of his projects. He padded softly down the stairs, not sure if Aunt Cass was awake or not—she might have woken up from Hiro's noisy departure. Tadashi kind of hoped she hadn't, because it was easy enough to avoid her questions during the day, when he was out and about. He wasn't ready to confide in her the details of the situation, but with Hiro feeling riled up and Tadashi feeling upset himself, it would be harder to deflect her questions.

Besides, she was likely already suspicious. She knew that the two of them had been struggling, knew that things hadn't been patched up yet, and most importantly, she had her own intuition as a parent. The kind of turmoil that had been borne out of their situation was hard to hide, and he thought she could probably sense it. Hopefully, she didn't know that Hiro was in love with him—that would be just too much for him to handle—hopefully she didn't know anything about his feelings, whatever they may be.

As he made his way to the garage, he saw that the door was ajar. In the low light, Tadashi could make out Aunt Cass, holding Hiro in an embrace as— _oh no_ , the thought hit him in a panicky rush—Hiro cried into her arms. He watched in silence as she carded her hands through his hair, eyes closed as she whispered comforting words to him. It was really too much, knowing he had driven Hiro to this and that Aunt Cass was sure to ask him about things now. Before, Aunt Cass had worried about Hiro's dreams, worried about Hiro being despondent, and had asked in her own gentle way. He didn't think she would overlook this situation—how could she overlook her nephew crying into her arms in the dead of night?

Aunt Cass looked up then, her surprised eyes meeting his in the low light. Tadashi felt like he had been struck with lightening, not because her stare was so hard, but because he felt like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Her eyes told him that she knew he was a part of this breakdown Hiro was having, and that scared him, because he didn't know if he could handle that kind of pressure from her.

 _It's my job to take of Hiro_ , he thought, fear welling up inside him. _What am I doing? What can I do to help him, when all I've done is hurt him?_ He gulped and shook his head no at her questioning eyes, not feeling ready to reveal to Hiro that he had seen him in this private and undeniably vulnerable moment and not ready for Hiro to know he was here. If Hiro wanted him to see this, he would have stayed. Tadashi felt like he had betrayed his trust, violated his privacy. If nothing else, he owed Hiro that.

Edging away slowly, he went back to his room and changed for bed, his mind feeling suddenly blank. There had been so much emotional confusion this night that he didn't think he had much left to feel—all that was left was the familiar pressure of a headache. Changing into his night clothes, he climbed into bed and laid there, waiting for sleep to take him, but it took a long time. By the time he was on the cusp of sleep, he heard the door creak as it was opened and resisted the urge to open his eyes. He didn't really want Hiro to know he was awake, because he couldn't have another conversation tonight. Tadashi had enough sense to know that it would have been too much for either of them to handle.

He laid very still and listened to Hiro make his way around the room, changing, pushing his desk chair away and back under his desk. Tadashi wondered—would Hiro come to him? Would he want anything to do with him, after how this night had gone? With each passing moment of silence, the urge to open his eyes grew stronger. He may not have wanted to talk to Hiro anymore that night, but he wished he knew how he looked, whether he was recovered from his teary outburst or whether he still had a haggard look about him. Tadashi felt his heart clench at the vision his mind procured, feeling uncomfortable. The panic from earlier in the evening was back, and Tadashi felt scared for himself and for Hiro.

Tadashi knew Hiro wasn't in bed yet, because he hadn't heard the rustle of his sheets as he climbed into bed. Finally, he heard the soft shuffle of Hiro's socks on the hardwood floor, and Tadashi found himself holding his breath, afraid even one wrong move would change Hiro's course. Hiro was coming over to Tadashi's bed, and Tadashi had no idea what he was going to do.

Hiro didn't say anything, and Tadashi didn't feel his weight on the bed. He waited for something to happen, the moments stretching out until—there it was, Hiro's hand pushing back the hair from his forehead. Tadashi struggled to keep his face motionless, especially when Hiro leaned over and pressed a kiss to his forehead, the pressure light and barely there, although undoubtedly lingering. Had he actually been sleeping, Tadashi knew he would have never felt it. Tadashi suddenly wished that he was asleep, because he was really intruding on Hiro's thoughts and feelings—first with Aunt Cass, and now this.

If Hiro didn't want him to know these things or see them, he shouldn't have. _Damn._

Hiro pulled back and Tadashi felt the absence of his warmth keenly. "Oh, Tadashi," Hiro whispered, sounding a little lost, and Tadashi noticed his voice seemed a little hoarse, probably from tears. He had to fight every impulse he had to get up and comfort him. "I hope you figure out how you feel soon," and the well-wish caught Tadashi off guard.

Hiro's voice was so tender, so soft that Tadashi was overcome with a feeling of fondness and gratefulness that it was almost uncomfortable. He was feeling so many things, and didn't know what to do with any of them. More than anything, he knew he was so lucky to have Hiro as a brother—so, so very lucky. Fourteen years old or not, Hiro was wise beyond his years; he was a blessing in Tadashi's life, no matter what strife and struggle came as a result. He tried to school his face into a neutral expression, sure his face must have revealed his thoughts, though if Hiro had seen, he didn't give any indication.

Then Hiro spoke again, even quieter now, "I hope you love me too."

When Hiro talked like that, Tadashi thought he just might.


	18. Ruins

**A/N:** Hello everyone! I'm sad to say this bimonthly update may be becoming the new "normal"—at least until this semester ends. It's been tough to write for this story because I've had about 40 pages of writing to work on for class—and damn, a writer can only write so much, you know? But I'm still chugging along with life and with this story and have ideas for where it will be going, so fret not!

I hope you will enjoy this latest drabble! :)

 **Chapter 18:**

When Tadashi woke in the middle of the night, it was because he could hear Hiro crying, and his heart immediately felt like it had turned to ice in his chest. He sat up quickly, looking over to Hiro's side of the room to find his view obscured by the partition. Hiro had drawn it closed, and the symbolism in the gesture was not lost on Tadashi. He sighed and threw his legs over the side of the bed, knowing that he couldn't ignore Hiro after all that had happened just a few hours before. Yet, he had already thoroughly crossed the lines of public and private feelings with his brother, so what was he to do?

He hesitated at the partition, wondering how seriously Hiro wanted him to take its movement. Did Hiro really want his space? Did Hiro want him to leave him alone to deal with this? Tadashi bit his lip before making a decision—although he was hardly in better shape himself, he couldn't let Hiro deal with this by himself. He had spent his whole life looking after Hiro, and he couldn't end that now just because of what had happened between them. Hiro was his brother—whether he was in love with him or not, that would never change. He pushed the partition aside and padded over to Hiro's side of the room.

His eyes adjusted in the dark and made out Hiro's restless form on the bed. He was tossing and turning in bed, clearly unhappy in whatever dream or nightmare he was having, whimpering quietly. Tadashi didn't waste any time, kneeling beside the bed and placing a firm hand on Hiro's shoulder.

"Hey, Hiro," he said in a loud whisper, "It's okay, I've got you."

Hiro jolted awake surprisingly quickly, his eyes wild as he turned his head around, taking account of his surroundings. "Hey, hey," Tadashi said, tugging on Hiro's shoulder lightly to get his attention and to draw him back to reality. "It's okay, I'm here," he repeated, "Shhh, I've got you."

After a few more moments of silence, Hiro seemed to make sense of the situation. He stopped looking around but instead stared blankly at his hands, which he had folded politely in his lap. He looked extremely subdued and unhappy, and Tadashi watched, mesmerized, as a few last tears made their way down his cheeks, glistening in the light. It was discomforting to see Hiro go so quickly from scared and panicked to totally motionless. Before even thinking about it, he brushed the cheek nearest him, ridding it of his tears, but Hiro flinched at the touch and Tadashi withdrew his hand as if he had been burned.

His heart was constricting painfully in his chest, knowing that he had driven Hiro to this. No matter how much it hurt him, he could take a hint. "Do you want me to go?" he asked honestly. He would do what Hiro wanted, even if it meant being away from him during this trying time. God, it was so hard.

"Yes… No," Hiro decided. He closed his eyes and looked particularly pained for a moment, and Tadashi was holding his breath, waiting to see if he would change his mind again. Hiro's face looked a hundred years old then, the worry lines of his mouth drawn and tired. "Please stay."

Tadashi nodded and climbed into bed next to Hiro, feeling a weight come off his shoulders. He laid down and faced Hiro, watching his face change in the dim light from the moon—he could still make out some of the tear tracks on his face, and watched as a single tear fell from the side of his eye down to the pillow. Tadashi knew that Hiro deserved better than this pain, but he couldn't give that to him, not until he figured out how he felt. He reached out a hand and combed his fingers through Hiro's hair, feeling Hiro flinch and then lean into his touch again. The air between them was heavy and uncomfortable in a way that Tadashi didn't really know how to describe. He couldn't remember ever feeling this way around his brother before—so taut, so nervous, so judged by his brother. They were usually so open.

Then again, the judgment was likely self-imposed, more his own reaction to feeling so vulnerable. Like he could even talk, with all the emotional upheaval he had put Hiro through.

"How are your dreams?" He hadn't thought about them in a while—since he and Hiro had been sleeping together, Hiro hadn't had any dreams. Tonight, Hiro had obviously been upset, but Tadashi didn't know whether that was because of the recent events or because of the old nightmares returning.

"Not very good," Hiro whispered, shaking his head minutely. "It's hard…" he swallowed, "when I'm not with you," and the words hung in the air, heavy, oppressive. Tadashi sighed and moved closer to Hiro, pulling them close. Hiro was a little stiffer in his arms than usual, so Tadashi pulled away. "Stay," Hiro whispered again, pulling Tadashi against him. _God_ , Tadashi thought again, _this is so hard._

"Do you still dream of me… being gone?" It was a strange question to ask, but a necessary one.

Hiro nodded, swallowing a lump in his throat, his eyes finally meeting Tadashi's. It was hard to look at him then, knowing that his brother was suffering, both from things within and outside of his control. Tadashi stroked his hands through Hiro's hair some more and they just looked at each other for a long time, not doing or saying anything. Tadashi didn't think either of them knew what to say. It was more the physical closeness that they shared that mattered than what was said at this point. Words always made these situations so much more difficult than they needed to be.

He knew what to do if they didn't speak.

Tadashi didn't know why he asked, "Why did you go to that bot-fight?" but he needed to know.

Hiro's brows furrowed and Tadashi could see him closing up, lips forming a thin line, eyes shutting. He chewed on his lip and Tadashi put his finger to Hiro's lip, stopping the action, but Hiro simply turned his head a little so that Tadashi's finger couldn't stop him. The little defiance sent a shock of fear to Tadashi's heart, although he couldn't say why it bothered him so. Hiro continued to chew his lip as he either ignored Tadashi's question or thought about what to say. Tadashi couldn't figure out what he was thinking or doing, a problem he usually didn't have. He could usually read Hiro so well, so easily.

"It's hard," Hiro said softly, "to be with you when I feel like this," and the contradiction between what he had just said and his earlier words was profound and problematic. "It's so… overwhelming, so much… everything… when I… I just don't know what you want me to be for you anymore."

The words struck a chord inside Tadashi and made him feel even more uncomfortable than before, rendering him speechless. He felt tears prickle in his eyes, and he closed them so Hiro wouldn't have to see. It was amazing how much everything had changed between them, and Tadashi was scared.

He knew he should comfort Hiro, but the words were stuck. He never wanted Hiro to change who he was for anyone, but especially not for Tadashi. _God, is that what he thinks I want?_ He sighed deeply and tried not to think too much about what a sad picture they made there, lying in bed together, both fighting back tears. It was amazing how many emotions Tadashi felt about Hiro—but none of them were the one that Hiro wanted him so badly to feel. Loving Hiro was easy; being in love Hiro was still incomprehensible, and he knew that hurt Hiro viscerally, on a level that Tadashi couldn't yet understand.

"I'm so sorry," Tadashi spoke sincerely, apologizing for a thousand things at once—the list was too long to actually decide what he was apologizing for, but mostly he was sorry that Hiro had to feel this way. Where could he even begin his apologies? And the words felt so worthless, so he added pathetically, "For everything," and hoped Hiro knew what he was trying to say, even though he himself hardly knew.

Hiro's hand came up and touched his own cheek now, combing a quick set of fingers through his hair like Tadashi had done for him. Hiro's eyes were filled with intense emotion as he said, "I know."

And oh god, Tadashi felt himself fall apart at those words. The tears that had threatened to fall before finally fell from his cheeks, and Tadashi drew Hiro up close against him, burying his face in the junction between Hiro's neck and shoulder. This felt so wrong, on so many levels, but Tadashi couldn't help himself. The tears trickled out one by one, and Hiro held him through it all, even as Tadashi felt tears start to accumulate on his own shirt. They were an even more pathetic sight than before, and Tadashi knew it was all his fault. _I've ruined everything_ , Tadashi mourned, letting out another sob into Hiro's shoulder.

 _I've ruined everything._


	19. Revelations

**A/N:** Oh my gosh it has been a long time since the last update, and for that I sincerely apologize. I do have a nice long drabble for you for this chapter, and at least we finally get the beginning of some resolution. Again, I do apologize for the delay, and I just want to say thank you to everything who is still coming back to this story to read more. Thank you!

 **Chapter 19:**

When Tadashi came home the next night, Hiro was working on a project at his desk. Tadashi didn't bother to announce his presence, sure that Hiro was wrapped up in his thoughts and wouldn't notice him for a while anyway. To be honest, Tadashi needed the silence and solitude and thought Hiro might too. It was hard for him to figure out what Hiro really wanted—he seemed to simultaneously want him close and want him far away, although it was possible that Tadashi was projecting his own confusion onto his brother. He wanted Hiro close, but he also wanted him to be far away, and least far enough away that Tadashi wouldn't question himself and his motives every time they exchanged a glance or a simple touch. For years, for Tadashi's entire life, he had always been comfortable around Hiro, but not anymore.

Tadashi sighed and unpacked his school things, settling on his bed to read a bit before bed, but it was hard for him to concentrate after a long day spent mulling over his feelings—which were quickly becoming nearly indecipherable, even to himself. For every argument he made to himself, there was a 'yeah, but', and to every 'yeah, but' there was another 'yeah, but.' It had him going in helpless circles, not making any progress on the matter.

Tadashi honestly didn't know how much longer he could do this.

"Tadashi!" Hiro's voice startled him out of his thoughts, and he lifted his gaze.

"Yeah?" he asked, still feeling a little dazed.

"I asked if you were okay." Hiro said a little more quietly, "Three times."

Tadashi's mouth formed into a small 'oh' of comprehension, face coloring in embarrassment. He still couldn't find the words to answer Hiro, unsure why he had suddenly lost his voice. He just looked at his brother, feeling like he was adrift in the sea, no real control over his actions. His eyes dropped and he stared at the seams of his comforter, tracing the thread of the quilted squares mindlessly, forgetting that Hiro was still expecting an answer until the boy sat down next to him, his leg coming into view next to the thread that Tadashi was following with his finger. He pulled his hand away, feeling suddenly uncomfortable that Hiro was so close.

Hiro took his hand into both of his and drew it to his chest, fingers caressing his sensitive palm. Tadashi met Hiro's eyes again and saw Hiro was feeling anxious—he was biting his lip again—but more than that, his eyes were shimmering. "Hiro?" he questioned, lost in his eyes.

"Tadashi," Hiro replied, and for a long time, Tadashi thought that was all he was going to say. He was jolted out of one stupor and into another when Hiro continued, "I haven't seen you act like this since… mom and dad."

His hand clenched and instinctually pulled free from Hiro's own, and he nursed it like a wounded animal. That scared him—was he really that bad? He couldn't help by get sucked into his mind about this—it was that important! He felt like owed it to Hiro mull over his feelings intently. But no matter how deeply he fell into his reverie, and as much as Hiro deserved him being sure about what he wanted, he didn't want to scare Hiro, although now it seemed like he already had, if Hiro's nervous gaze was anything to go by. Tadashi shook his head and put his hand back on the comforter, within Hiro's reach but not grabbing the hand again himself.

"I'm sorry, Hiro," he said gently, feeling the guilt tug at him. "I don't mean to get so caught up in my thoughts, it's just," he looked Hiro in the eyes, "I have a lot of things I'm thinking about right now." It was an obvious thing to say, but he still wanted to say it.

Hiro nodded somberly, looking for all intents and purposes like Tadashi had just dealt him a blow, although that hadn't been Tadashi's intention at all. They sat in silence like that for several moments, each turning over their own thoughts in their minds, Tadashi wishing he knew what to say—it had always come so easily in the past, so why not now?

Why not when Hiro clearly needed him?

"I was like that too, when I realized," Hiro said quietly. It took Tadashi a moment to understand what Hiro was even talking about—but he was talking about when he had come to understand his own feelings. "I was so afraid—I worried about you finding out all the time, about what you would think of me," he swallowed thickly, "What mom and dad would think of me. Tadashi, I didn't even know them," and his eyes were grave and apologetic all at once. He knew Tadashi didn't like it when he dismissed their parents, "I didn't even know them, and I was worried about what they would think. I can't imagine how it must feel for you."

Hiro reached for his hand again, as if he couldn't help himself. He rubbed a thumb across the back of Tadashi's hand, touch so light Tadashi would have thought he was imagining it had he not averted his eyes to their hands. Hiro continued, "I wanted you to know how I felt, but I never wanted to tell you," he confessed, shoulders tense, hunched. "How could I not love you? After everything you'd done for me," and he bent his head down, purposefully seeking out Tadashi's gaze. "For the longest time I wondered, 'How could I _tell_ you?'"

"Hiro," Tadashi started, but Hiro continued, his voice getting stronger with each word.

"It wasn't _easy_ ," Hiro stressed, "It was _so_ hard, all the time, going back and forth. Not about how I felt, but how to fight it. I knew right away that I shouldn't be thinking of you like that." He bit his lip and was silent for another several moments, but Tadashi didn't dare interrupt. He could hardly breathe with the weight of everything Hiro had just told him pressing the air out of his lungs. He was holding his breath.

"But—" and here he faltered a little, though his eyes met Tadashi's again, "This is how I feel about you Tadashi, and it's not going to change."

Hiro reached out and touched Tadashi's cheek, voice soft. "Right now, I feel like I'm losing you," Hiro whispered, and Tadashi was jolted out of his thoughts for a second time that night. He saw real tears in Hiro's eyes then, on the verge of spilling—it was like a rusted dagger to his heart. Hiro clenched his jaw and gritted his teeth, holding his breath before he made one final confession, "I can't lose you, too, Tadashi. I'm scared."

When Hiro said that, Tadashi felt like his heart had stopped. It was all coming together—it was hitting Tadashi like a ton of bricks. Hiro's dreams, his worries about what their parents would think of him, his fear of losing Tadashi—maybe it had nothing to do with a fear of Tadashi actually dying, but rather a fear of what he felt for Tadashi and Tadashi rejecting him. A very real fear of Tadashi not loving him, and leaving him alone to deal with feelings he couldn't even change. With the way Tadashi had been acting, so distant, he realized that he had unintentionally helped make Hiro's worst fears comes true.

The last few days he had been so wrapped up in his own thoughts he hadn't stopped to wonder what these events meant for Hiro, and had taken for granted how hard it must have been for Hiro to be so emotionally honest with him all the time.

The truth was that Hiro was being emotionally honest and Tadashi wasn't.

Tadashi was just glad that Hiro had the bravery to share this fear with him now in a way he could finally understand, when it really mattered. "Oh Hiro," he breathed, drawing Hiro into his arms again, moving so that Hiro was slotted between his legs, situated in his lap. He brought Hiro close enough that their upper bodies were in full contact and he treasured the feeling now that he understand more about Hiro's struggle. The struggle that Tadashi had unintentionally minimized and overlooked because it suited him to believe that these feelings were easy for Hiro to feel. God, he was so stupid sometimes.

"You have me," he whispered fiercely into Hiro's ear, "And you'll always have me."

It was the third time Tadashi had said those words to Hiro, and he had never meant them more than in that moment. The way he held Hiro was to tell him in every way he could how _there_ he was for him, to tell him that he would never leave. To tell him that this whole emotional mess aside, Tadashi was still his brother and still loved him more than life itself. Thinking the words, he held Hiro even tighter, waiting for Hiro to relax. It took a few moments, but he felt Hiro's arms come to wrap around him in return, touch hesitant, light, the opposite of his own in every way. He felt Hiro gingerly place his head on his shoulder, breathing short, nervous breaths against his neck, making Tadashi tremble.

All the pain he had caused his brother… Tadashi wouldn't forget that for a long time. And even now, he knew that he was sending hopelessly mixed signals, undoubtedly confusing Hiro further. Tadashi knew it wasn't right, but he was working on it—working on being honest with himself, and honest with Hiro. He felt like this embrace, this moment with Hiro, was pivotal to making that happen. It was a step in the right direction, if nothing else.

When Tadashi pulled back, he didn't get far. Instead, he rested his forehead against Hiro's as they shared the same air, stuck in this trance of closeness. "I will never leave you," and if it was an unkeepable promise, Tadashi didn't care just then; he felt so strongly that he was meant to be with Hiro, now and always. Overcome, he tilted his head up to place a kiss on Hiro's forehead, very much like what Hiro had done to him the night before, and he thought Hiro was thinking the same thing from how he tensed, nervous eyes meeting his as he pulled away.

There was a quiet moment, until Tadashi finally asked,"Do you want to get some sleep?"

Hiro nodded, eyes half lidded and watching him intently. "Yeah," he whispered, but made no move to pull away. Tadashi didn't make him, so they stared at each other, neither making a move until Hiro sat up a little, hands curling behind Tadashi's neck and pulling him closer.

Tadashi let out a breath as Hiro placed a delicate, barely there kiss on the corner of his mouth that spoke volumes. Tadashi still couldn't kiss him back—he wasn't ready, but he tightened his grip on Hiro once again, trying to convey in every way but words that he knew there was something here that was still unfinished, something that Tadashi needed to spend more time thinking about. He was trying to convey that he might be ready for this eventually, though he couldn't promise when. Tadashi suspected the love had been there for a very long time.

Confronting it was a different matter entirely.

Hiro pulled away and nodded, disentangling himself from Tadashi's grip and crossing over to his side of the room to change. Tadashi did the same and headed into the bathroom, splashing his face with water and brushing his teeth. As he looked at himself in the mirror, he found himself thinking _you are not a monster._ _Loving Hiro does not make you a monster._ The thought surprised him, but he let it stay there—that might be how he would have to go about this; instead of fighting with his every thought, he would let them simply stay. If he could get used to this idea, then maybe he could…

He shook himself out of his reverie at the sound of a gentle knock on the door. "My turn?" Hiro asked, popping his head in and surveying him closely. Tadashi smiled and went to settle into bed, climbing in and leaving plenty of room for Hiro beside him. After just a night apart, Tadashi was looking forward to having Hiro near him again.

If being together was hard, being apart seemed nearly impossible.

Hiro clambered onto the bed a few minutes later and smiled up at him, a shy small smile that melted Tadashi's heart. He couldn't help but smile back and pull Hiro against him closely, hoping that Hiro could sense how Tadashi was feeling—the fondness, the warmth, and the love in all ways he was comfortable feeling—he didn't want to hurt and confuse Hiro anymore.

Hiro settled in and gave a contented little sigh, and Tadashi felt the weight he had been carrying the last couple of days ease off of him. After just a moment of hesitation, he moved his hand and pulled up Hiro's shirt up, just enough so that Tadashi could place his hand on Hiro's bare stomach. He felt Hiro stop breathing and the muscles of his abdomen contract, before relaxing slowly. There were a couple of tense moments, filled with something undefinable but real and he thought seriously about moving his hand. The touch was intimate and firm, the same kind of _there_ that Tadashi had tried to convey in his earlier embrace. Was it too much for Hiro?

But after another moment Hiro placed his hand on top of Tadashi's and squeezed firmly.

Tadashi let out a breath and leaned forward to turn off the light. Hiro's thumb stroked slowly across the back of his hand and Tadashi felt whole.

He hadn't ruined everything.


	20. Gratitude and Guilt

**A/N:** I have no real excuse for the delay this time other than my own busy-ness. This pic has been in the back of my mind for weeks, but it's been tough to chisel out time to work on it. However, I appreciate each and every review, not only in and of itself but because it acts as a reminder that people are still enjoying this story.

I will do my best not to let you down. :)

 **EDIT:** Reuploaded due to wonky formatting.

 **Chapter 20:**

Tadashi and Hiro tiptoed around one another the next day and night. Tads knew they weren't avoiding one another—yet they definitely weren't seeking one another out. He was reading a book for class the next night when he heard a knock on the door. He knew that Hiro was down in the garage working, so Tadashi wasn't too surprised to see Aunt Cass peek her head into the room, her voice soft, "Tadashi?"

He wasn't surprised to see her, but he wasn't ecstatic either. He knew she wanted to talk to him—had sensed it for the last couple of days—and had been resolutely avoiding any opportunity for a conversation. There was nothing new he could tell her, nothing new he _wanted_ to tell her. He sighed a little and put his book down next to him, gesturing to Aunt Cass. "Come on in," and he patted the side of the bed next to him. He may not have wanted to talk to his aunt, but he wasn't going to disrespect her. He knew that she had the best of intentions and was working with everything she had—resources and information—to help them. She couldn't know how forbidden the issue at hand really was, and he wasn't planning on telling her.

"I thought we were past that age of sighing and rolling your eyes when you saw me," she said softly, more perceptive than Tadashi realized. She was joking, but there was a tinge of hurt in her voice and Tadashi should have known better. He was an open book even when he was guarded, and he hadn't been guarded. Of course she had noticed—of course he had hurt her.

Tadashi sighed again and rubbed his eyes, apologizing earnestly. "Sorry, Aunt Cass," and he gave her a small smile. "I'm sighing at, well, everything in general, you know?" His voice was light, trying to keep the conversation easy and flowing. He dared a glance at her and saw her smiling her forgiveness, "It's not you," he reassured her.

Aunt Cass gave him a nod and sat down on the bed next to him, barely taking up any space. She definitely seemed more nervous than the last time she had come to speak to him—the first time, she had been all worry and passion; now, she seemed painfully unsure, although Tadashi didn't know why. If anything, he expected her to act more strongly this time, now that she had seen Hiro so upset. He had known as soon as she had seen him that night that they would be talking about this, and that it wouldn't be a conversation he could duck out of easily.

"I'm still worried about you boys," she started slowly. "The other night, Tadashi, I—" she stopped to collect her thoughts. "I am trying very hard to respect your wishes, and let you two work this out yourselves. You are an adult, and Hiro is fast on his way to becoming one. But to have Hiro," she paused again, biting her lip. "To have Hiro crying in my arms like that, it's hard for me to just stay on the sidelines and let that go."

Her eyes were actually sympathetic, not angry or upset—she seemed to know that the words would hurt Tadashi, even though that wasn't her intention. She was right, too, because Tadashi flinched.

He traced the seams in the comforter on his bed, avoiding her eyes for a moment as he collected his own thoughts. "Yeah," he said quietly, "I know." There was a long pause as he pondered what to say next, but Aunt Cass didn't rush him, and he was grateful for it. He was trying to figure out what to say so that she wouldn't press him for details, but so that she would feel satisfied with what he had to say. "It's true, Hiro and I have been better and we've been worse, but what I think is more important is that we are also getting better," and he met her eyes so she could see his sincerity. "The tension here," he chose his words carefully, "This isn't the end goal, for me or for Hiro."

It wasn't a lie. They weren't fighting anymore as much as trying to understand each other. The revelation that Tadashi had had the night before was sure to put them on the right track.

Aunt Cass bit her lip and looked away. Tadashi thought it might be because she was not impervious to his sincere gaze, but he didn't like to flatter himself in case it wasn't true. Sometimes you could win Aunt Cass over with a look; others, not with a million dollars.

"Tadashi, I know you can handle yourself, and I know you can handle Hiro when Hiro can't handle himself—but I am asking you to let me help you," and this time it was her gaze that was so sincere it struck him to the core. He held his breath for a moment, he was so struck by her love; this was the passion he had expected, the passion that was hard to fight because it was so good. Aunt Cass was a good person, a good woman, a good mother, and that was hard to fight.

He let out a slow breath and tried to get his thoughts back on track. Unfortunately for him, he was a sucker for genuine looks and good intentions—but even though he was coming to accept his feelings, he doubted Aunt Cass would feel the same way. He felt this especially strongly now that Hiro and Aunt Cass had presumably talked. If Hiro hadn't divulged more information to Aunt Cass, then he wouldn't either. He couldn't betray Hiro's trust.

Aunt Cass sighed, sensing his hesitance. Her gaze didn't waver as she spoke, "I _know_ you love Hiro," and Tadashi felt the blood drain from his face at the words, "But you shouldn't be the only one to do the job Tadashi, it's not fair to yourself," she crooned comfortingly.

He opened and shut his mouth a few times before he realized that she didn't know— _she doesn't know, she doesn't know, she doesn't know,_ he repeated to himself like a mantra—but the look must have been stuck on his face because she was getting worried again. She touched his hand, touch so gentle he almost didn't notice it, but he quickly took her hand into his own and squeezed it reassuringly.

 _Get ahold of yourself Tadashi_ , he shook himself out of it. He felt his heart rate slowly returning to normal, and he gave her a soft smile, "Sorry," he started earnestly, "I was caught off guard by what you said," and this, too, was not a lie. While this wasn't the most truthful of truths, it would have to do.

"I'm worried about both of you," Aunt Cass said again, almost as if he hadn't even spoken. "I don't like being left in the dark, and you know that."

Tadashi averted his gaze again and felt the guilt well up inside him. This was just another thing he could add to his list of 'people he had worried'—the list was growing depressingly long.

"I know, I'm sorry," he all but whispered. He rallied himself, preparing himself to reject her kindness—he didn't want to do it, not really, but he had to. "I promise, Aunt Cass, Hiro and are working things out. This just wasn't one of those things that we could work out quick and easy, like usual. We want to make sure we are both happy with the outcome, with our decisions."

He met her eyes and she didn't look away. They looked at each other for a long time and he could see her warring with herself, caught between her maternal instincts and her rational mind that insisted she get involved, now that she had a taste of how bad things had become. She bit her lip and Tadashi couldn't help but smile, thinking of how often he had seen Hiro doing that, and wondering if he had picked it up from her.

She saw his smile, released her abused lip, and gave him a questioning look.

He laughed a little, a deep in his chest sort of laugh, and hugged her. "Nothing," he said, still chuckling, "You're just wonderful," and that's all he said in way of explanation.

She laughed a little herself but wasn't so easily distracted from the task at hand. Tadashi didn't blame her, so he reassured her, "If I need your help, I promise I will ask for it this time, okay?" and he watched as the worry lines on her face smoothed almost imperceptibly. He wondered for a moment how many of those lines he had put there, then smiled again because he realized that if anything, Hiro had been responsible for most of them. "I promise, things are going to get much better," and he really believed it. For the first time in weeks, he really did.

"You know you can always ask for my advice," Aunt Cass said, but she was much less on edge this time. Her eyes were searching his own, begging that he ask for her advice right now. He knew she wasn't satisfied with how the conversation had gone, but also knew she didn't feel she had the right to force him. He nodded and she kissed his cheek fondly before leaving.

"I love you," Aunt Cass said quietly, seriously.

"I know," he said after she left, feeling lucky to have her.


	21. Simpler Moments

**A/N:** And because it's been so long since an update, have a second chapter even! It's a lot fluffier than some of the recent chapters, but I felt it was important to establish the "new normal" that Tadashi and Hiro are trying to create, and to convey the fact that how much someone loves another can be clear in the smallest and simplest of gestures.

 **EDIT:** Reuploaded due to wonky formatting.

 **Chapter 21:**

Tadashi didn't hide in the lab the next day. He came home at a decent hour and ate dinner with Aunt Cass and Hiro—which while not without its awkward pauses, was remarkably more normal than anything else that had happened in the last couple of days. After helping Aunt Cass clean the dishes, Tadashi asked Hiro only somewhat hesitantly, "Do you want to help me out on a project in the garage?"

Hiro looked at him a little shyly, realizing the peace offering for what it was and accepting. "Sure," he said softly, trailing after him as they went into the garage. The project was still in its early stages, so the majority of the work being done was foundational robotics—but Tadashi still thought it would be good for both of them to get involved in something that required concentration, but wasn't frustrating. He mostly just wanted to be in a room with Hiro without any emotional upheaval following—he wanted to reassure both himself and Hiro they could still be happy together.

It was all a part of his plan to return his and Hiro's relationship to something more manageable, because although he knew no relationship could always be easy, the psychological torment of the last couple of weeks was frankly unbearable. _That's not what we're about,_ Tadashi reminded himself, but this time he wanted to prove it. Regardless of what he felt for Hiro, he couldn't continue on with making him cry all the time—it went against who he was as a person. He had devoted his life to keeping Hiro happy, but he hadn't been doing a very good job.

After explaining the project to Hiro, they worked in relative silence for a couple of hours. The silence was comfortable—they were each concentrating on their own work and so time passed quickly, until the peace was disturbed by Hiro's grumbling stomach. The first time, Tadashi almost missed it; the second time, he let out a hearty laugh and turned to face Hiro.

"You are a bottomless pit," he chuckled. "After a solid dinner, you're hungry in two hours."

Hiro laughed along with him and got up, stretching leisurely. "Hey, I wouldn't call that food quite so solid—Aunt Cass was so surprised to see us for dinner she threw together some, er, questionable combos," and he shuddered theatrically at the memory.

"Hey, it's those very unique combos that keep the café and business!" Tadashi said, not really kidding. He rose and smiled at Hiro, the expression seeming easier than it had all week. "Let's get you something to eat, huh?" Hiro nodded, and Tadashi lead him to the kitchen, gentle hand on the small of his back, touch so light Hiro might not have noticed. _This is okay,_ Tadashi reassured himself. _This is good._ It was this gesture that made him feel right again—made him feel like the world was no longer spinning of its axis. The feeling of Hiro's body, solid and warm under his innocent touch made this all seem so wonderfully simple and easy.

"Split a sandwich with me?" Hiro offered, digging out the bread, peanut butter, and jelly from the cabinet without looking at him.

Tadashi shook his head with a smile at the childish choice, but didn't deny him. "Sure."

Tadashi leaned against the counter and watched his brother make their sandwich, smile falling from his face and shifting into a more thoughtful expression. His eyes scanned Hiro's body, feeling profoundly like there was something wrong with his eyes, because he was definitely seeing double. On the one hand, he saw his little brother, the same as he always had been and always would be: clumsy, a little awkward, and too skinny for his age, forever standing on tiptoe to reach the top shelf.

On the other hand, he saw a teenager with a brain that was both age appropriate and ten years ahead of schedule. He was only a teenager, but he was a genius, far smarter than Tadashi, even. He blinked to clear his head and knew that brilliant teenager or little brother, it didn't matter. Tadashi still saw someone who he truly cared about, without whom his life would be meaningless.

It was different to think it naturally rather than have it forced out of him in the middle of the argument, but Tadashi took his own advice and let the thought stay there. It made him feel warm inside, and comfortable, like he belonged with Hiro and like Hiro belonged with him.

Hiro was extending him his half of the sandwich, crusts cut off. Tadashi blinked in surprise. "You cut off the crust," he noted aloud, accepting the sandwich with a quirked eyebrow.

Hiro quirked an eyebrow right back at him. "You never have crusts on your sandwich," he stated as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "You even cut it off when you order one at a restaurant."

Tadashi gave a little laugh of wonderment, shaking his head at Hiro but knowing that he was right. They ate in silence in the low lit kitchen, leaning against the counters across from each other. Tadashi thought it was funny how he always assumed he was the one watching Hiro, noticing his little eccentricities and preferences, when it was clear that Hiro had been paying just as much attention to him. Sometimes he forgot that this wasn't a one-way street, but moments like this made him grateful to have a brother like Hiro. Moments like this made him love his brother so much, it made his heart clench. The warmth he felt from before returned full force, and stayed there, unwavering, willing him to act on it.

They both made quick work of their half of the sandwich, but when Hiro was done putting away the things he had used to make the sandwich, Tadashi moved close to him, placing his hands on his shoulders and squeezing gently. Bending down, he kissed Hiro lightly on the side of his mouth.

"For cutting off the crusts," he explained with a smile, straightening. It was the first time that Tadashi had initiated a real kiss between them, and that fact wasn't lost on Hiro.

Hiro beamed.


End file.
